


Rose Gold

by omegasquire



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Parallel Universes, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omegasquire/pseuds/omegasquire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you mend a heart? How do you ease the pain of a soul battered by the hardships of life? How do you cure loneliness when there’s no one who can break the locks you’ve set to protect your vulnerabilities? Sometimes, the answer is not in front of us, but in a different world where another just like us is seeking the same comforts and compassion. As Cloud crosses dimensions, he must open his heart to the one who forced him to close it, and accept the possibility his fated enemy is the only one who can make him feel whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reboot of an old, old story I wrote before the side games and animations came out. I found it wasn't appropriate to continue with the old one with all the new information out, so I've made some major changes. I hope this turns out well. This is my first project since my hiatus.

A weightlessness encompassed his body, taking away all concept of gravity and eliminating the need for solid boundaries. Behind closed eyelids played a film of colors: greens, blues, yellows, white. The hypnotic, serene lap against his senses kept him in a lull. Time was also an element that had been erased, blending together seconds and hours.

Caught in a state akin to slumber, Cloud could offer no resistance as a hand gently touched his forehead. Slender fingers pushed aside his bangs, the act so tender and motherly, for a moment he thought it was his mother. He called to her, his voice soft and wondering. An equally soft, humored tone drifted his way; he couldn't place whose voice it belonged to, though it did comfort him.

It was fond of him, carrying a familiarity he didn't know existed. He felt he should know who this person was, but his mind was too lethargic. He could only enjoy as that gentle hand stroked his hair and cupped his cheek.

Like a kiss farewell, his lips felt warm. The heat spread along his body, teasing his skin. Gradually, it encompassed his form, bringing with it his sense of touch, hearing, and sight. Hesitant, he opened his eyes and was greeted with an array of colors that reflected what had danced behind his eyelids. They glittered, hundreds of tiny lights dancing upon invisible currents. 

Cloud tested his movements and turned. He moved effortlessly, as if he was floating, and managed to take in the vast space about him. An endless sea...

It was such a contrast from the turmoil he'd lived for the last six, seven years of his life. He honestly couldn't tell when his hardship began, if it was when he was a child, ostracized for a mistake, or at Midgar, when it became glaringly clear he was nothing more than a failure, destined to be strung up like a doll. History became a hodgepodge of events he could never quite sift through. For years he lost himself, lost his focus, lost everything.

Just barely had he managed to piece it all together, gathering shards and fitting them into a proper picture. He couldn't have done it alone. The comrades he met, the friends he made, all stabilized him and helped him find who he was meant to be. He couldn't imagine a world where that support was removed from his life. 

He didn't think such a world even existed.

_ But such a world  _ **_does_ ** _ exist. _

Cloud startled, looking around him. A soft voice spoke in his head, murmuring between his ears as if it had always been there. It was no voice of the conscious, but a true presence that made him tense with uncertainty. 

“Who…?”

_ Life is experienced through an infinite number of choices. These choices can lead to different destinies. _

He didn't know this voice. Instinct made him question if he should trust it. As he was wrapped in a warm embrace, he started to doubt. He shifted and searched for the source, but found nothing.

_ Where one may be friend, another may be foe. Maybe they do not know each other at all. The choices made define what is to come, and the choices not made discard what could but never came to be. _

He couldn't pinpoint it, but this voice was almost  **_familiar_ ** . He had heard it before. When or how were questions he lacked answers to, and it nagged at him to find out.

_ Have you wondered of a time when the ones you lost could be saved? That your enemies could be friends? That abandoned dreams could be made true? _

Cloud flinched. He'd wondered plenty of times about the  _ what if’s _ . He thought of being able to save Aerith, or save Zack. He thought of a life when Sephiroth didn't fall to the whims of Jenova and chose to destroy the planet. He dreamed of the day he could have been a true SOLDIER, not just some infantryman who had to hide his face to avoid the shame of his failures and inadequacies.

They were all things he'd thought about countless times, and it stung to hear these questions aloud when he had asked them so many times already.

_ Would you take a path that followed a different destiny? _

He paused, frowning at the implication. If things had been different, could he have prevented the disaster? What of his friends? His family? Could he go back and start over?

_ Time cannot be rewound. What was meant to be was meant to be. _

Despair settled heavy in his chest. The hope that had begun to form was already withering. In its wake came ire; he didn't like this game.

_ What  _ **_is_ ** _ cannot yet be determined until the first step is made. New destinies can be formed _ .

The vague speech was both confusing and irritating. Cloud couldn't keep up. He wanted an end to this tête-à-tête. He wanted to get the point.

_ Are you a warrior willing to take the first step toward battle once more? If given the chance, would you accept the offer to follow a new destiny? The path will be long, it will be difficult, but at its end can be a well of happiness. _

_ Cloud, I ask you be a warrior once more. The souls of many have been lost to the poison that has yet to be purged of the land and her people. There are those whose hearts have not mended from the tragedy.  _

_ A very precious person’s heart has been broken... _

That was a heavy task to fulfill. Cloud was hesitant, the numerous lines of scars from his battles silent reminders of all the pain he suffered and the trails he had to endure to reach the  _ destiny _ still colored with life. To do something like that again was akin to stepping one foot in his grave.

Then again, he never had both feet out. He was at a perpetual teeter, fighting for stability, reaching out for a hand to help him out. If he said yes, there was a chance he would finally fall in. Death haunted his shadow, waiting patiently for the moment he would slip. Be it now, tomorrow, or even ten years from now, it would come.

If he was bound to die sooner or later, then he could do it for the sake of saving whoever it was that needed saving. He couldn't put up his sword just yet. The placidity of a normal life wasn't just his; it was meant to be shared. He would do what he could.

_ Thank you _ .

A small, delicate hand touched his chest. Cloud's eyes widened at the sight of a young woman clothed in an elegant gown the same shades as the scenery around them. She smiled kindly at him, reaching up to touch his cheek. The cool caress of her palm against his skin astonished him, a fair contrast to his own heated body. Staring into her eyes, he realized she was  **_old_ ** . Not years, not centuries, but eons. She was a gentle breeze of life and wonder that enraptured Cloud. In that moment, he knew who she was. She was the mother of this planet, the source of energy and life, the reason he was still alive. Gaia.

_ Yes. I know this will be difficult for you, and perhaps I am asking too much, but she is precious to me, and I can only offer this much. I trust you will make the right decisions. You have a strong heart, Cloud, a heart full of compassion. Share it. Trust in it.  Everything will turn out as it is meant to be in the end.  _

He didn't understand, but he couldn't fight her. Nodding, he surrendered to her. A heaviness drew down his eyelids, lashes dusting atop the crest of fair skinned cheeks. He couldn't see, his senses fading one by one. The last thing he felt was a soft press of lips upon the crown of his head.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always been a little confused about the English translators' choice in Cait Sith's accent, but I tried to match it as well as I could.

Wind tossed up her hair, forcing her to push it back from her face. Squinting skyward, Yuffie whined at what she saw. This was the worst. She was only meant to return to Wutai, but the sudden gale stopped her in her tracks.

Dust was pulled up from the earth, making her shield her face before it finally settled. A pale halo of light was coming from the southern direction. If she guessed right, it was from the Ancient Forest. That was just beyond Cosmo Canyon. No doubt Red saw what she was seeing. The phone in her pocket was a steady weight against her hip.

After dancing back and forth with the idea of calling, Yuffie finally dug the mobile out and snapped it open.

“ _Lass, now's not a good time t' be callin'!_ ”

Cait Sith's voice came through the other side. The mechanical doll and Red were often seen together, the former a fair medium when certain tasks required thumbs and finer mechanics. At first it had seemed ridiculous for the two to pair up, but Yuffie thought it was pretty handy. Red couldn’t very well turn doorknobs by himself.

“This is important! Do you guys see that light?”

“ _Aye, it’s a straight beam inta me eyes! Came on like a spotlight, blindin’ us all!_ ”

“Is it coming from the Forest?”

“ _You betcha. We ain’t never seen anythin’ like this before. Kinda worrisome if ya ask me. Think we ought t’ tell the others?_ ”

Yuffie stared at the glow. “Yeah, they’ll definitely want to know about this. I’m coming there right now. Hang tight!”

Disconnecting, Yuffie gave another whine before changing course. She couldn’t go home now.

* * *

His feet touched down in a soft descent. The ground beneath his feet had no form, yet it pressed up against the soles of his boots when he stepped forward. With naught but his senses to rely on, he walked through was he could only describe as space. It was dark, almost pitch black, with no true light to direct him.

Time was made irrelevant, fatigue almost nonexistent no matter how how long he walked. Perhaps it was just minutes, maybe hours, or even _days_ had passed -- he didn’t know.

If this was where Gaia meant him to be, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do here. There was _nothing_ that needed saving here. Nothing at all. No path was laid out before him, no signs to direct him on where to go.

Sighing, Cloud stopped walking. He wished he knew where he was meant to go.

A subtle stroke of color entered the edge of his vision. Turning his head, Cloud stopped to stare at the strip of green as it stretched from the base of his feet. It was a mesmerizing sight, almost like the lifestream had formed a path for him.

Finally given something to work with, Cloud resumed walking. Even if he didn’t know where the path was leading him, at least it was better than wandering around in the void.

* * *

The airship’s blades wound down, grumbling at the landing. From its hull emerged four figures. At the fore was a tall man with long silver hair, a signature feature that belonged only to Sephiroth.

Behind him was Zack, Aerith, and Cid. Yuffie greeted them when they met at the bottom of the ramp, grateful they’d come. Not everyone made it, but at least someone was here to help sort this out.

Looking up at Sephiroth, she gestured at the village. “Red and Cait Sith are up top waiting for us.”

Sephiroth nodded and headed for the village, Yuffie jogging a few steps to keep up with him as the others followed suit. When they made it to where Red and Cait Sith were, both were staring at the Forest. Following their line of sight, she grimaced at the sky.

The halo’s glow had faded some, but it still remained concentrated over the treetops of the Forest. Even without it, the Ancient Forest was a frightening place to be -- a place she never wanted to revisit. Just thinking about it made her shudder.

“Oh man...”

“It’s nothin’ like we’ve ever seen before. Y’ think it might be...?” Cait Sith shifted his weight back and forth, a nervous tone in his voice.

Silence followed his question, the words unsaid echoing in their minds. Three years had passed, but the wounds were still fresh in their hearts. The fall of Meteor, the near ascension of Jenova... The planet was still healing. Gaia couldn’t afford the stitches to be ripped free.

“No.”

Aerith’s voice drew everyone’s attention. She was staring intently at the Forest, her eyes brightened by the pale sky. “Something is... different. I don’t understand. I can hear Gaia’s voice, but…” She shook her head.

Yuffie bit her lip. Her hand fingers twitched, nervousness making her unconsciously seek her weapon. There was nothing to fight, yet the pressure in her chest suggested otherwise. “What do we do?”

“Hell if I know,” Cid grumbled in the back.

Yuffie saw Zack reach up and run a hand through his wild hair. He wore a grimace, groaning in turn. “We go look, don’t we?” he offered. “Different or not, we have to check it out and make sure it’s not a threat. Right?”

Zack turned his gaze to Sephiroth. The man had yet to say anything. It took a fair moment for the old General to look at Zack. “Yes. Get your gear together.”

Though Sephiroth had been looking at Zack, the command had been for all of them. Yuffie nodded and took another glance at the Forest before making her way down to check her equipment. She had no clue what to expect -- none of them did -- and if she could bring every materia in her possession, she would. Priorities and space limited her choices.

Sifting through her things, she picked up a couple of the large marbles and slipped them into the slots that decorated her weapon. “Oh man…” She knew she wasn’t going to like this.

* * *

An eerie chime of music reached his ears. It steadily became louder as he progressed, beautifully haunting with every note.

Not too far off he saw a change in the path, its color multiplying into different shades of green. It flourished into a display of foliage, grass and underbrush sprouting below his feet, vines and trees creating a canopy over his head.

The picture was incomplete -- fuzzy. He wished for clarity and detail, but even if he squinted, nothing changed. His vision remained wrapped in a haze. It was almost nauseating. A sense of vertigo washed over him that made him stumble. Refusing to let his knees buckle or expunge the contents of his stomach, Cloud pressed on.

He side-stepped what were possibly bushes, ducked under low branches, and swiped at the mess of vines that would’ve strangled him otherwise. All the while the melody continued, growing more discordant and jarring the further he went.

If he slowed, so did the music; if he sped up, the same happened there. Cloud didn’t know if he should follow the music or the path, stuck between the desire to clear the forest, and the desire to save his ears.

_Come here._

He slowed at the voice that whispered in his ears, just as Gaia’s had. However, this was not her voice. It didn’t comfort him or put him at ease.

_Come._

He shuddered. This voice crawled up his back, invisible fingers clawing at his clothes, nails digging into his shoulders. Stumbling as his pants were snagged on low branches and thorns, he tried to shrug free of the voice.

_Please, please don’t go..._

Unwittingly, he slowed down even more, almost pausing at the quiet plea. It begged like a child, downhearted at the thought of being abandoned. He knew the feeling of being alone, of the helplessness when no one was on his side, or things just didn’t go his way. He knew what it was like to _want_ and yet not be _given_.

But this seemingly innocent, pained voice didn’t move him enough to stop. He forced himself to keep going even as he got caught on more branches and vines, those hands incessantly grabbing at his body.

_Stay with me, please. I don’t want to be alone. Don’t leave me..._

It hurt to hear these words and ignore them. He’d heard them before with the orphans, each with their own tragic history. Mothers and fathers killed during the destruction of Midgar, friends and neighbors killed by monsters, everyone and everything they knew utterly destroyed and not a single ray of hope to lift their spirits.

_I love you..._

He roughly jerked away from the vines that lashed his arms, and tore free from the hands still grabbed at him. He didn’t know this voice, didn’t know where it came from or its intent, but he was both disturbed and uncomfortable with staying in this place. He forced himself to keep going, moving faster despite the weight dragging down his body.

Somehow, he knew if he stopped, he would regret it. His heart raced at the thought; he feared what might happen if he surrendered to the voice and its insistent call.

* * *

Nimble on her feet, Yuffie ran along a branch and pushed off at its tip to vault herself into the air. Twisting, she used her momentum to throw her weapon. The blades sliced into thick fur before circling back toward her. Keeping an eye on it as she reoriented her body with the ground, she caught it with practiced ease just upon touching down.

A snarl drew her gaze, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she shifted into a defensive stance. She didn’t do well with stationary battle, more at ease with an environment that offered better mobility, but the Forest was dense with trees and vines -- half of them were carnivorous.

She hated this place. She never wanted to go in here, but they were already too deep to back out. She couldn’t see the Forest’s edge anymore.

A streak of red and black caught the beast’s attention just before a set of fangs dug into its open wound. A screech of pain followed, the beast shaking violently to throw off its attacker. Red jumped back, landing near Yuffie. Cait Sith was clutching his mane, body lowered.

“I don’t remember there bein’ this many fiends last time!”

Yuffie’s finger slid over the curve of one of the materia slotted in her weapon. She drew from it a fire spell, concentrating it on their current opponent. There had to be a dozen at the very least, and that didn’t count the ones the others were facing. She didn’t know how they were faring, too focused with staying alive, but she hoped they were okay.

“I don’t like being here! Can’t we go home?"

The beast shrieked as it caught afire, large body writhing beneath the flames that reached deep under fur and flesh. The smell of charred meat hit Yuffie’s nose with gusto and she held her hand up to cover the lower half of her face.

“Not ’til we find what’s going on.”

She hopped back, catching a low branch and swinging atop it in time to see Zack cleave through his own opponent. A butcher would be jealous of how clean a cut he made through that overgrown bird.

“But if we can’t get past these guys, how are we gonna know what’s the cause of all of it?”

Zack looked up at her from the ground and shrugged before moving onto the next beast that hindered their advance. “We just gotta keep trying. We can’t stop.” He dared to glance her way as she danced with a few creatures in the branches, slicing at them. “Tired?”

Cutting down another fiend, she looked down at him and stuck her tongue out. A retort was ready to be made, but the branch suddenly gave under her. She pushed off, narrowly avoiding a beak that tried to grab at her leg.

She landed on the ground and retreated a few steps, glancing around them. The monsters weren’t tough, but they were a handful. Where one died, another took its place. She didn’t understand what was going on!

“Yuffie!”

She ducked, swinging her weapon to cut the beast’s underside as it dove over her. Rolling to the side, she pushed to her feet and switched to an offensive stance, magic rushing along her palm. Tugging it tight, she loosed another fire spell that ate her attacker whole. In its wake, she ran toward her next foe. She leapt over the carcass and slashed at the beast.

Red was quick to follow, wrapping his teeth around its wounded neck. Zack came right at his heel, spearing the beast with his massive sword. When they pulled free, it collapsed. There was little time for victory, however, as the three of them split up and continued to fight.

Yuffie used her surroundings to the best of her advantage, nervously avoiding the live traps that decorated the forest floor and treetops all the while. She managed to kick one into the waiting jaws of said trap and winced as its massive maw snapped close. She could’ve sworn she heard bones snapping and it made her queasy.

Glancing below her, she saw she was being pursued by two of them even as she tried to put some distance between her and the others. “Leave me alone already…”

Her hand caught another branch and she swung to another tree, keeping her distance. If she fell, it would be right into their hungry mouths. She had no intention in becoming food.

With careful balance, she shifted her weight and singled out one of them. She drew her arm back in preparation, but was nearly knocked off the tree when a strong gust of wind hit her. Yelping, she clung to the tree. Below her she saw the beasts crouch, hissing and snarling as they backed away. She followed their sight and nearly choked on her breath at who she saw came toward them.

Frozen in fear, she physically shook herself out of her shock and frantically fished out her phone. Snapping it open, she nearly slammed her thumb into the pad as she called Sephiroth. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” When she heard the quiet click of the call being answered, she didn’t hesitate to hiss, “ _He’s back!_ ”

There was hardly a pause. “Where are you?”


	3. Chapter 2

He bared his teeth, fighting against the force that was trying to keep him away from his goal. He didn’t even really know what that goal was, but he _did_ know he wasn’t going to surrender to whatever it was that was trying to hold him back.

That sickeningly sweet, childlike voice kept calling him, begging and crying to make him stay. It drowned out all other sounds with its repetitive claims of how much it loved him, but he didn’t have love to return. He didn’t know who or what was talking to him, and he had no desire to find out.

Head pounding from the music and pitiful cries, Cloud couldn’t take it anymore. Snarling, he brought his hand up and reached over his shoulder. A cold, heavy weight sat against his back, a familiar sensation. He was comforted with having it there -- a loyal and irreplaceable ally.

Grabbing the handle, Cloud swung and cut himself free. All the vines and branches released him. The hands jerked back, a piercing shriek following the injury made upon them.

_I love you! Only I have ever loved you! Why are you doing this to me?!_

Cloud refused to listen. He braced his weapon between his hands, releasing one of the smaller blades to dual wield the swords. They were extensions of himself, removing all that stood in his way. Gaia had given him a task, and he wasn’t going to let anyone or anything stop him from completing it.

Within the green came shapes of various colors -- reds, browns, blues, black. He didn’t pause to ponder their difference. Even as his limbs started to feel the strain of fatigue, he didn’t stop. Those that retreated he didn’t chase; the ones that attacked he met with full force.

A body of black rushed toward him, glinting silver. He twisted out of the way of what could only be a weapon and slashed at the mass. He was met with resistance, but he followed through with his second sword.

The blade slid alongside the thin, silver blur, the sound of scraping metal reaching his ears. It came flashing toward him again with terrible speed; his heart raced at its deadly accuracy. This thing, whatever it was, meant to kill him.

The fight quickly became a dance of parries and arcs and narrow misses. There would be no definite winner or loser; time and exhaustion would be the decider of who came out on top in the end. Cloud struggled to keep his head on straight; between meeting Gaia and hearing that voice, he couldn’t focus on this fight.

A wave of nausea made his steps falter and he forced himself to create some distance between him and his opponent. A grimace pulled at his features and he shifted his stance, his blades fitting together with a soft click.

Drawing his arm back, he felt magic crackle along the length of his sword. He forced it out as he swung downward, a blue electric crescent creating a fissure in the ground as it raced toward the black form.

He shadowed it, pushing off the ground when the black blur dodged his attack. They met in the air, weapons hitting with a small spark. For a split second, he saw a face -- or rather, part of one. Green eyes met his, twin pupils like black diamonds focused on his every move.

He _knew_ those eyes. He could never forget those eyes which had stared at him haughtily, mad with a desire to eliminate the world of all life for the sake of fulfilling his _mother’s_ wish. But Cloud _knew_ the man couldn’t have lived. He killed him.

That had to be a spark of delusion. Cloud was so used to chasing after his enemy, it was hard to imagine anyone else as his foe. He tried to shove down the paranoia and fear, but it had already planted its seed in his heart.

How many times did he have to kill the man who used to be his hero?

A desperate swing bounced his blade off his foe’s, the rebound throwing him off balance. His arms tensed at the vibration running along his muscles; his hands tightened around the handle of his sword.

_How long did he have to fight?_

Pain tightened around his heart. All the memories and emotions he’d accumulated over the years flooded his mind. He didn’t want to -- _couldn’t_ \-- lose to the nightmare that had plagued him all this time. He couldn’t let a _phantom_ continue to bite at his heels.

_This wasn’t real._

He cried out as heat flared in his torso. Jerking, he looked down as blood soaked through his shirt where he’d been stabbed. He reached with a trembling hand to touch the sword that speared him just below his ribcage, fingers curling around its sharp edge. It was a slender, elegant piece, just as beautiful as it was deadly. His eyes traced the soft curve of its length to the hilt where a leather glove was firmly wrapped around it.

Cloud’s heart beat wildly in his chest, his mind begging this was just a dream. He didn’t want to _see_ the answer, but he made himself lift his gaze and once again meet those sharp green eyes. Silver hair framed a handsome yet impassive face.

“No...”

His voice was a whisper of disbelief and anguish. _Not again_.

The sword pushed deeper into him. Gasping, he grasped at it, his gaze never straying.

“Sephir...”

Pain lanced his mind, yanking his attention away from Sephiroth. It shook him to the core, forcing him to drop his sword and clutch his head. Cloud hunched over and bit back a cry. He choked as the voice started again, fighting for attention and his submission.

It felt like he was being hammered from all sides. He struggled to look up at Sephiroth. His vision, still slightly fuzzy, grew more distorted. As he felt the sword dig push completely through him, he was reminded with terrible clarity of the multiple times he’d been impaled by this very sword.

Heat burned the back of his eyes. He forced himself to focus on Sephiroth again even as everything else around them faded. The world shrank down to just the two of them, as it often did.

His hand, slick with fresh blood, slipped. It hung by his side, his whole body becoming slack as the energy that propelled him before was suddenly taken away like a rug from under his feet. He held Sephiroth’s gaze as long as he could before his head lolled, eyes rolling back.

__I love you. I’m the only one who loves you. Come to me..._ _

* * *

Their greatest foe was before them on the ground, red slowly staining his clothes. They made no move to address it, choosing instead to stand in a loose circle around the fallen blond. Zack could hardly wrap his mind around it, shocked into silence along with the others. None of them had expected to see Strife again.

The fight between Strife and Sephiroth had been a flurry of sparks and singing blades. Just as soon as it had started, it came to a sudden halt with their enemy run through with Sephiroth’s sword. But Strife wasn’t dead; he still breathed. Zack acknowledged they had to change that, but he didn’t move. None of them did.

After a stretch of silence, Sephiroth finally stepped forward to do the task. He would assure they wouldn’t have to fight Strife _again_.

“Wait!” Aerith’s sudden interjection drew all eyes toward her. When Sephiroth gave her an expectant look, she looked down at Strife, her hand clutching her staff. “I...”

Her brows furrowed as if listening but not quite understanding something only she could hear. Her connection with Gaia surpassed anyone in their party, and more often than not, her words reflected the planet’s desires. When she finally looked up, Aerith returned her attention to Sephiroth. “I think we should take him with us.”

“What?!”

She turned to Yuffie who stared at her like she’d grown another head. “Yes. I don’t...” She shook her head and looked down at Strife. “I don’t understand why, but Gaia wants us to keep him alive.”

It was Cid’s turn to snort, refusal written in his features. When they had sorted parties, he had been fighting alongside Aerith and Sephiroth. “Yeah? And what exactly are we supposed to do with him? I’m not letting him on my ship.”

Zack ran a hand through his hair. “I dunno…” He looked at Aerith who had yet to lift her gaze. “You sure that’s what she said? I mean, I’m not doubting you, but that’s a pretty heavy request.”

“Yes. I don’t want to, but..." She finally looked at him. "Did you see his eyes? I felt Gaia within him. I saw it in the way his eyes glowed.”

“Yeah, I saw it too,” Zack muttered, a slight furrow between his brows. He glanced at Sephiroth, but the man didn’t offer any input.

“But I thought Jenova an’ Gaia were enemies?” Cait Sith spoke up, perched on Red’s back once more. His mechanical ears twitched with open nervousness. “Y’ cannae have both together. That’s impossible.”

Hearing that made the current situation even more puzzling. Their newly resurrected enemy had mako -- had the _lifestream_ \-- flowing through him. The fact he was here at all was disturbing enough.

“Well...” Red took a few steps forward, an action that made Cait Sith squeeze his mane in protest. He circled Strife, careful yet curious in his approach. “Whether or not Gaia wants us to care for his wellbeing, we can’t leave him here.”

“Cid.” Sephiroth’s voice drew their attention. “Ready the airship. Red’s right, we can’t afford to leave him here. At least with us, we can keep an eye on him.”

Cid opened his mouth to protest, but Sephiroth shot him down with a look. Clicking his tongue, the older man threw a glare in Strife’s direction before grumbling his way out of the Forest. Sephiroth looked after him before turning to the others, a silent command for them to leave as well.

They filed out after Cid, leaving Zack with Sephiroth to watch over their fallen enemy. Aerith had hesitated in her departure, but when Zack placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she left.

Zack heaved a sigh and glanced at his friend. Sephiroth’s gaze was rooted to Strife’s prone form. Stepping closer, he kneeled by Strife and carefully lifted his shirt. If they were supposed to keep him alive, they couldn’t leave him bleeding all over the place. Reaching for a materia, he felt the gentle warmth of magic trace along his palm before he directed it at Strife. When he felt he’d done enough, he stopped and stood up.

“He doesn’t look so dangerous like this, huh?” When Sephiroth didn’t respond, Zack glanced at him before looking down at Strife. He stepped back and took in the sight before him, an old memory drawing up. “Remember when you two met? It was kinda like this. Except... you didn’t try to kill him then.”

“That was a long time ago.” Sephiroth’s voice was low, as if he was speaking more to himself than his partner. “A long since dead dream.”

Sephiroth approached Strife and bent down to pick him up, a carefully impersonal action despite the intimacy it implied. Zack hid a frown as he saw this. He went to pick up Strife’s abandoned sword, briefly marveling at its weight and design -- he’d never seen anything like it -- before trailing after Sephiroth.

The _Highwind_ was ready and waiting for them when they made it out, propellers whipping up the grass in preparation for take off. Sephiroth and Zack made their way onboard, met by an irritated Cid who led them to one of the secluded rooms in the ship’s quarters. It offered no window, no elaborate furniture, just a place to sleep. To an outsider, it would likely look more like a holding cell than room.

Considering their new company, a holding cell was appropriate. Sephiroth transferred Strife to the bed, noting belatedly the red smear on his clothes from Strife’s wound. He let it be while Zack came up next to him, sword still in his possession. “Think we should lock his sword up?”

“Yes. Will you take first watch?”

“Over him?” Zack jerked a thumb in Strife’s direction. “Yeah, I guess. Ain’t nobody better besides you.” He offered a half grin and turned toward the door. “Lemme put this up in my room. It’s pretty amazing, I definitely want to look at it later.”

He went down one of the halls to his room and leaned Strife’s sword against the wall. It was a unique weapon, one he’d never seen before, and seeing the way Strife handled it was enthralling.

Zack couldn’t remember a time when Strife ever dual wielded. He couldn’t say Strife had ever learned the style. _What did that mean?_ Zack touched the sword as if he could somehow gain insight from it, but when nothing came, he let his hand drop and made his way back to Strife’s impromptu cell.

Cid was gone, and Sephiroth was still standing by the bed. Zack came up next to him and looked down at Strife.

“Zack. Call if anything happens.”

Zack barely got a lazy salute in before Sephiroth disappeared. He stared after his friend before pressing the panel to close the door behind him. Turning to Strife’s unconscious form, he scratched the back of his head in a moment of indecision before going back to the bed and sitting at the edge, a dangerously close proximity to the one who wanted to kill them.

His brows furrowed. “You look like him, but not exactly. You’re older. Aerith says Gaia wants you alive, but that’s kinda hard to swallow. You wanted to destroy everything. That hurt. A lot of people were hurt. Seph was probably the worst.”

Zack sighed. He was talking to the walls. “If we could start over, if we could make things right... Man, wouldn’t that be great?”

* * *

Sephiroth stood at the bridge with the others, arms folded. His focus had turned inward, distracted by his thoughts. No one dared to bother him.

The weight of Strife’s body in his arms drew up memories he’d done his best to suppress while traveling with the others. He wondered when the last time he’d held the man.

To have that sensation again, to be teased by a tuft of unruly blond hair under his chin made his chest tighten. He had been tormented with a broken heart for years, unable to express his affection to the one he cared for the most, unable to confide in the others about the emotions that stormed inside him as he fought against Strife.

When Aerith suggested they take Strife with them, he was conflicted. Strife was a danger to everyone, even if Sephiroth had managed to take him down once more. The fight was almost easy. The erratic, desperate manner Strife fought was different from what Sephiroth familiar with. His movements were unstable, like an injured and confused animal without sense, only the burning need to survive.

The fear and surprise that flickered in those eyes gave a human, vulnerable quality that Sephiroth hadn’t seen on Strife’s face in a long time. He had the purest of blue eyes. Until he’d suddenly faltered and an undertone of green flared, bleeding across his irises and erasing the blue.

The panic and agony that twisted Strife’s feature shouldn’t have struck the cords of Sephiroth’s hardened heart, but in the past, it had always troubled him whenever he saw that handsome face bow to pain. Still, he drove his sword deeper into that slender body.

There was no room for weak wills and bleeding hearts. Much as he wanted to call Strife to his side and embrace him as they used to, he had to cement in his mind and heart that the trials he faced was not overcome with tender feelings.

He and Strife were fated foes. As Jenova and Gaia could not be one, neither could he and Strife. Even though he wore the ring, that dream was but a pile of ashes now.


	4. Chapter 3

Drawing in a soft, deep breath, he took a moment to orient himself. Beneath him was soft, the air above almost chilly. He heard nothing. No, he did hear something. It was quiet, almost imperceptible, but he recognized it as breathing. Slowly opening his eyes, Cloud squinted against the fluorescent light overhead. A faint grimace tugged at the edges of his mouth before he dared to look around. He didn’t know this place. He saw it was a small room, barely larger than a supplies closet, walled with steel.

He caught movement out of the corner of his vision and tilted his head. Looking down at him was a ghost, expression curious yet _wary_. A mix of emotions flashed in his eyes, a bright blue that Cloud could never forget.

Shocked, Cloud didn’t move. First Sephiroth, now _Zack?_ His heart beat wildly in his chest. He wasn’t sure whether to call this a dream or _nightmare_. He wished Zack hadn’t died, not for his sake. Zack could’ve easily escaped on his own, he was more than capable, but he’d chosen to stay by his side instead. He owed Zack his life, and he would never forget that.

But this was too much.

“Mornin’.”

He flinched. Pushing up to his elbows, Cloud wanted to look away and ignore the possibility Zack might actually be in front of him. He didn’t know what he would do if it turned out to be real.

_Could he pretend this was just his mind conjuring up his friend to buffer the shock of seeing Sephiroth?_

“...Morning.”

“Feeling okay? You got hurt pretty good back there.”

Cloud glanced down at his chest, realizing the lack of pain. For a moment he hoped he truly was just fumbling around in a dream, but the stain on his shirt said otherwise. Fully sitting up, he drew down the zipper and saw the pale scar of where he’d been stabbed.

Sephiroth resurfaced in his mind, green eyes focused on him and him alone. The intensity of his stare was impossible to miss, and even now, Cloud felt uneasy. “Yeah. I’m still in one piece.”

He paused at the state of his gloves, one of them sliced open from where he’d held onto the Masamune. Spreading his fingers, he examined the damage before pulling it off, surprised to see healed flesh beneath the crust of dried blood. He scratched at it, flecks landing on the sheets. When it was clean, Cloud stopped at the sight of a silver band around his fourth finger.

He’d never worn rings before. He’d been minimal in his choice of accessories, his earring the only decorative metal on his body. A ring would’ve remained hidden under his gloves, pressing uncomfortably against his skin whenever he gripped the handles of his bike, or wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword.

Cloud didn’t know where it had come from. He could only assume it was some gift from Gaia, though he couldn’t imagine why.

“Nice ring.”

He startled and looked at Zack. His thumb absently rubbed over the simple band. “...Yeah. It’s not really my thing, but it was given to me.”

“By someone special?”

He frowned. ‘Special’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind when he thought of Gaia, but he couldn’t disagree. The planet was a powerful being, their very source of life, and their judge and jury when necessary. “I guess so.”

He slipped the glove back on, mindful of the large gash as he tugged it into place. As he did so, he took the chance to survey his surroundings. There wasn’t much to tell him where he was, not even anyone to talk to, aside from Zack.

“Where am I?”

Zack made a thoughtful sound as if he was searching for the answer. “The _Highwind_.”

Cloud’s frown deepened. _Highwind?_ Last he recalled, Cid had retired that model for _Shera_. He wouldn’t switch over unless his newly beloved airship was no longer operational.

_Then this really was just in his head._

A sigh pushed up from his lungs and Cloud shifted to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Zack scooted to give him room, brows raised in question, but Cloud didn’t get up. He remained seated, caught between relief and confusion. He didn’t know what to do from here. At least he had Zack to keep him company. That fact brought a small smile to his lips.

“It’s been a long time since we sat like this. It took me a long time to find myself after...” He shook his head. There was no need to elaborate what happened the day Zack had died. “It was difficult, but I know who I am now. I’m not a puppet. Everyone’s supported me and I have them to thank for giving me the will to fight again.”

Cloud’s mouth turned downward, his body remembering the fights he had against Bahamut Sin, the three remnants, and once again Sephiroth. He remembered the fire in his muscles as he pushed himself to his limit, the heavy burden of his emotions, and the liberation of knowing it was over and he had protected those close to him even though it had ended his life as well.

_But it wasn't over._

He clenched his fists. Gaia's words echoed in his head. She said he wasn't done. There was more for him to do. “How do you save someone when you don't know what's wrong?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Zack shrug. “I dunno. I guess you just talk to them and get to know them. You never know what's going on with someone unless you communicate.”

Cloud couldn't help his amusement. He wasn't surprised at Zack's answer; he trusted Zack to be the kind to deviate towards speaking plainly and opening one's heart to another. He was a direct man. “But if you don't know who it is you're even supposed to save? How do you make things right?”

Looking at Zack, he saw the man frowning at him. A silence fell over him before he finally opened his mouth. “You…”

A subtle trill cut him short. Cloud startled when Zack fished out a phone from his pocket. Zack shouldn't have a phone. He was a piece of fiction; he had no need to call or be called.

Cloud watched him talk, brows knit as he tried to grasp this sudden change. His eyes never left Zack as the man stood up and walked to the door, leaning toward the panel next to it. His body covered the screen, denying Cloud the ability to see who he was talking to on the other side. Based on his tone, he could only assume it was a comrade. This only confused Cloud further, rocking his earlier theory of this being in his head.

When the door slid open, he was on his feet in an instant, eyes widening at the man just beyond the doorway. His gaze was met, that same intensity he saw before.

Cloud narrowed his eyes, suddenly aware his sword was missing. His hands itched to grab it, feeling vulnerable without its presence. There was never a moment between him and Sephiroth that didn't end in battle, regardless if it was truly him or just a shadow.

A slip of orange and red split his attention as Red's unmistakable form entered the room. He eyed Cloud as he circled the room, pausing in the middle. Seeing Zack move, Cloud's attention snapped back to the older man, shocked to see him leaving with Sephiroth. At least Zack glanced back at him, but the expression he wore gave Cloud no comfort.

_What was going on?_

The door shut, cutting off any questions Cloud might've asked, leaving only him and Red -- and Cait Sith, apparently -- in the room. The lion said nothing, only watched him while the cat doll atop his shoulders tilted his head in a curious manner.

Cloud was hesitant to believe these two were his friends despite looking like them. Nothing about this _dream_ was making sense. He didn't know if he was still swimming in the lifestream or if he had actually made his way out.

“Y’ don't have t’ stand on our account.” Cait Sith freed himself from atop Red and ambled toward the bed as he spoke. Cloud shifted, half turning to watch him hop up on its edge. “Goodness me! Looks like ya bled straight through these sheets! Well don't ya worry, lad. I'll take care of these, then we can sit down.”

Cloud waited as the cat tugged off the ruined sheets. The mattress looked like it would have to go, but neither of them could do much about it. When Cait Sith hopped onto the bed, he patted the space next to him in invitation. Wary, Cloud didn't respond right away. His gaze shifted between felines before taking his seat.

“What's going on here? Why am I being held in this room?”

Cait tilted his head. “Well…”

“You are a danger to everyone.”

Cloud frowned at Red. _He_ was a danger? He knew he posed a threat to those who wanted to harm his friends and the planet, but he was hardly a threat to _everyone_. He harbored no ill feelings for anyone -- excluding Sephiroth. “That doesn't sound right. Why would I be a danger to everyone?”

“Many people have suffered because of you.”

Being affiliated with AVALANCHE, a terrorist group, he couldn't deny people had suffered because of what he and the others had done. Additionally, he knew he'd personally hurt others, whether in action or inaction. Cloud couldn't refute truth, and it hurt.

“Do you know how you got here?” Red continued.

The sudden switch in topic caught him off guard. He stared at Red, running through his head what he could make sense of: Rufus had propositioned him for help; the orphans had been kidnapped by Kadaj and his brothers; Tifa had gotten hurt and argued about what to do; he fought against Bahamut Sin, the Remnants, and Sephiroth; Kadaj’s body dissolved into a spiral of lights; and he confronted Loz and Yazoo one last time. There was a massive explosion... fire... agony... peace? Then he was with Gaia.

_After that..._

“No, I don't.”

“What do you remember?”

“Fighting. Drifting in the lifestream and meeting Gaia. Then... this.”

Red's fire-tipped tail swung low like a pendulum, a trait Cloud recognized as curiosity and pensiveness. “You said you met Gaia? What for?”

Cloud wasn't sure if he should be telling Red anything, especially when the details of his situation were so unclear. He wasn't sure if he ought to be talking at all, but he was friends with Red, and it was difficult to see the lion as anything but an ally.

In the end, he just shook his head once more. “She started talking to me, asking me questions. I didn't really understand it. All I know is she wanted me to save someone.”

“Save?” Just that one word was laced in incredulity, as if they didn't believe him capable of doing so. It stung.

Cloud's mouth set into a line, not sure which hurt more: their disbelief, or the idea he actually couldn't save anyone. The burden of his insecurities had only just become lighter, and he felt it slowly piling back on. His friends had supported him through and through, even when it was clear he had no idea what he was doing or where he was going. They followed him to the very end, each one ready and willing to die alongside him if that was what it came down to.

_Was this betrayal?_

“Yes.”

“Interesting…” Red stared intently at him, studying him.

It was always unnerving to have someone stare at him for a lengthy period of time, even when he was a kid. Cloud didn’t know what they were thinking, and with someone like Red, who was perceptive, he was anxious about the judgment being placed on him.

“Gaia would not ask for the help of someone she detests or fears. She wouldn’t ask for you, someone who has harmed her, to save someone on her behalf.”

“I would never harm Gaia.” Cloud’s mouth set into a line. He didn’t know where this was coming from, but if this was a joke, he didn’t find it funny. Why would he be accused of harming Gaia when all he ever did was to save her?

“Many would testify against that.”

The muscles in Cloud’s jaw briefly tensed. “Whatever they might say, I’m innocent.”

“Maybe.” Red’s tail resumed its swing. He canted his head in a thoughtful manner. “It’s hard to believe, since you are the son of Jenova.”


	5. Chapter 4

Zack's fingers laced behind his head, gaze on the screen before him. He was joined by Sephiroth, the two of them watching the feed. It was a live recording from Cait Sith. They'd agreed to use the toy to assist in monitoring Strife and getting better feel of what they were facing. Red had offered to join him, acting as a sound medium when the toy couldn't come up with the proper words to get Strife talking.

_“What do you remember?”_

Zack watched the shifts in expressions on Strife's face as he and Red spoke. He knew Strife, or at least who he _was_ before everything got flushed down the toilet, including their friendship and dreams together, but who he saw now was neither the young man he met at Midgar, nor the manic, tormented enemy they faced and killed three years ago.

He _was_ and _wasn't_ Cloud Strife.

It bothered him to know he was seeing a stranger with a familiar face for a second time. Since the moment Strife woke -- no, since he'd appeared in the Ancient Forest -- his actions had been weird. Zack wasn't blind to Strife's differing mannerisms. He'd followed the battle with focused eyes, nary missing the confusion and despair that was etched in his features. To the very end, those were emotions that were unsuited for the man they'd called their enemy.

_“All I know is she wanted me to... save someone.”_

_“Save?”_

Zack's brows furrowed. He'd always liked to look at the brighter side of things. Sometimes people called him foolish for it, but he wanted his glass half full, not half empty. If it was empty, that was because he'd drank it himself, and he'd rather fill it instead. No one could survive with a negative mind.

Still, he didn't know if he could do that here. He was staring at a glass that he couldn't decide was half full or half empty. His hand was poised, ready to pour more in, but should he?

Raking his hands through his hair, he silently groaned at the complication of their current predicament. He'd always wanted the three of them to be back together again. They were such close friends in SOLDIER.

_How do you save someone when you don't know what's wrong?_

The words came back to him. He'd offered a simple reply, one he believed to be the best, but he hadn't understood where the question had come from. Strife didn't _save_.

_How do you make things right?_

Zack wished he knew the answer to that one. He wished he could just say they could all sit down and talk, and things would be okay again. It wasn't that simple, though. There was too much history, too much damage. All of them had suffered because of Strife.

Glancing at Sephiroth, who had yet to take his eyes off the screen or note Zack's sudden frustration, Zack knew the biggest obstacle was the man standing next to him. Sephiroth would be hard to sway. He'd closed himself off to any potential of starting over again, and it made Zack sad to know this. Sephiroth just couldn't get over Strife.

“Hey...” When the other man didn't respond, he tried again. “Hey, Sephiroth? What do you make of it?”

There was a lengthy pause before Sephiroth replied. “It's suspicious. Despite his proclamation, there are too many holes, and we've only started trying to piece this together. Strife may say he is innocent, and Aerith may vouch for the planet's desire to keep him alive, but that doesn't mean we can trust him.”

“I know. He seems so different, though.”

“Regardless, we need to play this close to the chest until we know more. We'll head to Junon. The equipment there may not be on par with that in Midgar, but it's better than keeping him here.”

It was risky to bring Strife with them to a populated area, but Junon would at least have better facilities to secure Strife than the airship. Zack sighed. He wanted to believe in a positive future. Until then, this was their next best route of action.

“Yeah…”

* * *

Cloud stared in shock. Jenova's _son?_ That was impossible. To say he was from that monster's loins disgusted him, and it appalled him that Red was suggesting this. “I’m not Jenova's son.”

“No?”

“I've never been Jenova's son.” The cells infused in him might have said otherwise, but Cloud _knew_ he was born from his real mother. The only connection he would have with Jenova was when Hojo had poisoned him for five years in the basement of the Shinra Mansion. He was not that monster’s _offspring_.

Red looked at him. He would find no weakness or lie; Cloud wouldn't make this up.

He was a regular boy from Nibelheim who aspired to be in SOLDIER, and promised a friend he would be her knight when he made name for himself. When that dream fell through, he ended right back in his hometown and his nightmares began. He had wanted nothing other than to destroy Jenova for all that she had done to the people he cared about, the planet, everything.

_But I love you._

Cloud hid a flinch at the whisper that barely reached his ears. He blocked it, unwilling to surrender to it. He wasn’t going to listen.

A soft sound of a lock tumbling free distracted him from his thoughts and had him turning toward the door as it slid open. His muscles tensed on instinct, teeth gritted in anticipation. When Zack came in, relief cut through his defense, but he still held firm.

Red’s words echoed in his head. He was in a place where he was assumed to be Jenova’s son. People likely hated him. They would doubt him and distrust him. Red already expressed his skepticism. He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone in this place -- whatever it was -- either.  

Zack paused before smiling at him. “Hey, we're getting off here.”

Cloud hesitated before pushing to his feet, conscious of the three sets of eyes glued on him. “...Alright.”

The other man's smile turned a bit rueful. “Sorry, but we'll have to truss you up a bit before we head out.”

Alarmed, Cloud's eyes widened before narrowing in suspicion. Zack was quick to hold up his hands and explain. “It's nothing bad, just a spell. It's for everyone's safety. Think of it this way, it's either we do this or you get locked in here for who knows how long.”

He didn't like either option, but Cloud relented. “Okay.”

Zack reached out and patted his shoulder. The action was so familiar yet so foreign, Cloud had to stop himself from ducking out of the man's reach. He held still as Zack drew magic from the materia in his possession.

A slight dizziness came over Cloud, but Zack kept him steady. It was as if the tether that connected him to the planet was ripped away from him. The sudden emptiness was jarring; he tried to settle his nerves that trembled with this added vulnerability.

He couldn't defend himself like this. No weapon, no magic, no escape, he was at the mercy of whoever tugged his chain.

The hand on his shoulder gave a light squeeze. “All done. Still doing okay?”

The immediate thought was _no_ , he _wasn't_ okay. Biting back what could've come out as a sarcastic remark, Cloud opted to nod instead. “...Yes.”

Zack returned his nod and held out a pair of cuffs. "Put those on and follow me. Stick close."

It wasn't said, but Cloud knew what hung behind those words. He would have to stay on Zack's heels if he wanted to be on decent terms with whoever else was here. He had to treat this place as enemy territory, and as much as it wore on him to be reminded of the title that had been forced on him, he couldn't lash out.

_He_ had to play it close to the chest as well.

Snapping the cuffs in place, he let Zack check them before following him out of the room. Behind him he heard the soft steps of padded feet and knew Red and Cait Sith had joined them. Cloud took quiet note of their route, the walls painted the same as he remembered on the old _Highwind_.

_Was this still all in his head? Was it something else entirely?_

As they passed a few of the crew, they were open about their disagreement to his presence. If they assumed him to be the Calamity's son, he couldn't blame them. The way they felt about him was likely the same as he felt about Sephiroth.

He paused at the sight of the man waiting for them by the ramp. Instinct fought with reason until reason won and he continued walking. He met Sephiroth's gaze and held it, finding it difficult -- if not impossible -- to determine what went on behind that cold expression. There was hardly enough time for him to know Sephiroth when he was younger, the General too engrossed in his own missions while Cloud and the other infantrymen were dispersed to do menial tasks SOLDIERs couldn't be bothered with. After Nibelheim, all he knew was a burning hate for a madman who destroyed everything he ever knew and loved.

_Was it possible to forget that day and treat Sephiroth as someone completely removed from that nightmare?_

He didn't know, and a stubborn part of him didn't want to try.

Breaking eye contact, Cloud took the first few steps outside the airship and squinted against the sun. It was glaringly bright, especially when it reflected off the water. It was hard to tell where exactly this was, but the closest he could come up with was Junon. Why was he at Junon?

Pushing that question aside for the moment, Cloud turned his focus on those gathered at the base of the ramp. Cid wore an open expression of distaste for sharing the same air as him. Yuffie shifted her weight as if it would dispel her uneasiness. It seemed she still had trouble hiding her emotions when she wanted to. A few men in uniform were scattered behind them, two trucks waiting.

Cloud froze when his eyes finally landed on her. _Aerith._ He shouldn't have been surprised, but it still shook him to see her alive. Not only that, she didn't greet him with a smile. She didn't see an ally in him.

None of them saw him as a comrade.

His chest tightened and he forced his attention ahead of him. Zack had paused and looked over his shoulder at him, and Cloud thought he was going to say something, but Zack just turned back around and kept going.

They made their way to one of the trucks and Cloud was ushered in the back, along with Sephiroth, Zack, and Aerith: the three people he wanted to be with the least. A couple infantrymen -- he couldn't tell if they were SOLDIERs or not -- joined them, while the rest piled into the other truck.

The ride was silent and the air thick, and even if they didn't all look directly at him, Cloud knew they were watching him, waiting for a reason to raise their weapons against him. The most unnerving was Aerith, who sat across from him. Cloud met her eyes despite wanting to look away.

Memories were drawn up, along with the words he never said. She'd given her hand to him, helping him find that strength to fight again. It was probably silly in her eyes how he'd been dragging his feet. In retrospect, he supposed it was; he carried the burden on his own, hindered by it, when he could've just let go of his past grievances and move on.

He wasn't alone. He had his friends -- his _family_ \-- to support him. Together they could fight and conquer their fears.

_But where are they now? No one loves you. No one cares about you._

Cloud clenched his jaw. That infernal voice was back.

_They see you as an enemy, someone they must kill. They wait for you to say the wrong word or make the wrong move, just so they have an excuse._

He knew that. It didn’t make a lick of sense, but somehow he was standing on the other side of the line that defined good and evil. If he was supposedly evil, then he couldn't give them the opportunity to fight him -- not when he was at such a disadvantage, and certainly not when he hadn't had a chance to fulfill Gaia's request.

_They'll never see you as who you really are. They'll never trust you._

Fire burned within him. He didn't want to hear this.

_Come to me. I will care for you as they will abandon you. I will help you find what you seek._

For a split second he faltered before hastily throwing away the unfinished thought. He couldn’t let that seed to be planted.

_Please, come to me. I suffer as you suffer. I promise to never let you be alone. Please..._

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and erected a wall to block the pleas that crawled through his mind. So lonely, so pitiful, he had to fight the sympathy that had cultivated over the years he'd come to know and care for the children with Tifa. This tender, desperate cry reminded him too much of the orphans forced to struggle on their own in a world wary of sharing their compassion with the less fortunate. Their lives had been torn apart by poverty, exploitation, terrorism, war, and the near destruction of the world. To ignore this voice was like ignoring _them_ , and he did all he could to keep from reaching out to that voice.

When a hand suddenly touched his, Cloud's eyes flew open. Aerith was leaning forward, her delicate fingers gently resting on the back of his palm. He became stiff as she stared into his eyes, her brows knit in a soft frown.

“Your eyes.”

“...What about them?”

“They’re green. They look just like Sephiroth’s.”

Cloud jerked. Sephiroth's eyes had always been tinted green, pupils like a cat's. Beautiful as they were, they were signs of Jenova’s influence on the body. All those numbered failures had eyes like Sephiroth’s. Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo were the same. To share in that feature, Cloud recoiled from the implication.

“ _No…_ ”


	6. Chapter 5

Aerith lifted her hand and returned it to her lap when Strife yanked himself away. He was visibly rattled, his shoulders drawn in. It was a quick shift, but just as suddenly as it had appeared, it disappeared, and Strife’s eyes returned to a normal blue. He avoided looking at her, but she didn’t doubt he felt her stare.

Folding her hands, she saw the others were staring at him as well. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything, but she couldn’t take away the words. There was no hiding the way his eyes had changed. The blue of his irises had been washed out by green, his pupils contracting into slits. It was unlike what she had witnessed before.

It was strange. Back in the Ancient Forest, she had felt the presence of Gaia flowing through him. Just now, it was the opposite. A sour taste settled on her tongue, making her frown deepen.

Seeing Sephiroth looking her way, she shook her head and kept her thoughts to herself. She needed to sort through them and try to understand for herself what she was sensing.

As the truck came to a halt, they all exited with Strife sandwiched between them. Sephiroth walked next to him, a close distance she knew was out of precaution with this unwanted revelation. She lingered in the back, lightly touching Zack’s arm when he looked at her worriedly.

With the others joining them, they formed a loose barrier around Strife. Strife, in turn, made no protest, only followed where directed. Aerith didn’t know what to make of it, if this compliance was out of willing submission or something else entirely.

Everyone was on edge. She noted even Zack was having trouble hiding his own disconcertion. She’d known him for so long, she could read him like a book, and knew the happy gestures he was displaying in Strife’s presence were a little forced.

Zack was such a kind person, when his heart broke, it saddened her to see his smile fall and tears run down his cheeks. She knew of his friendship with Strife, as well as Strife’s affair with Sephiroth -- a secret that wasn't hers to tell. When she learned of how a rift had been formed in that friendship, her desire to open her arms to Zack had been overpowering. She wanted that smile to remain on his face. She loved the way it reached up to his eyes, giving them a glow that had nothing to do with the mako in his system.

Lingering in the background as Sephiroth and Zack escorted Strife to his new holding cell, Aerith worried for both men. She stayed behind as the others moved on and glanced at the small window that was her only clue Strife was still inside. He seemed to sense her and looked up from his lap.

He looked so lost, so _human_.

The time she had knowing Strife when he was in SOLDIER was brief. A longer period of their acquaintanceship was after Strife had joined Jenova. Strife was as far removed from humanity as imaginable. No sympathy, no pity, no empathy. No kindness, no tenderness, no love. He fit into the definition of a monster, apathetic to the wellbeing of the human race.

Seeing the man before them express emotion was shocking. There was vulnerability in the way he tensed, shifted his eyes, and spoke with a hesitant, cautious tone. Who she saw didn’t seem like the same person she knew -- he didn’t act like someone who wanted to hurt so many people.

_What if he wasn't the same person?_

Aerith moved away from the door to catch up with the others. Zack was waiting for her, smiling when she came near, only to frown when he saw her expression. “What is it?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I...” Her lips pursed in indecision. “I need a moment.”

He lightly touched her arm. “Want me to come?”

She thought about it and nodded. Zack led them away from the group and took a side hallway that brought them outside. They made it to a wide balcony where Aerith stopped by the railing. She leaned her staff against it and folded her hands before her, taking in the beautiful scenery. The afternoon sun made the water glitter, and overhead was a bright blue sky decorated with fluffy white clouds. She wished she could enjoy this view as much as it deserved, but in the back of her mind nagged a hundred questions that lacked full answers.

Tucking away her disappointment, Aerith turned her ear to the planet. Gulls cried below, haunting the harbor. The air kissed her cheeks, bringing with it the smell of freshly cooked food, likely from one of the homes or commercial buildings upwind. A laugh rang from a street down below, joyous in sound. This was the song of life, beautiful in its purity.

Dipping her conscious into the current that carried all life, she sought out the mother of them all. She heard her crying, soft mournful tears that drifted through the lifestream. She was in pain, but Aerith couldn’t determine if this was physical or spiritual. Gaia had her own conscious, and to know and see her ailment often dampened the joy in Aerith’s heart. Like Zack, she hoped for the best, believed in the best, but there were still times when she, too, was subjected to the emotions of uncertainty and helplessness.

Gaia reached out to touch her conscious. The unexpected presence of Jenova’s taint stung her, making her shrink back. Gaia was still deeply hurt, and there didn’t seem to be anyone that could help her heal. Aerith had thought Holy would’ve been enough to secure the safety of the planet, but its recovery process was being hindered. Jenova still ran through Gaia’s veins, keeping her sick.

Aerith wondered if it was Strife’s return that was the cause, but to her surprise, Gaia didn’t agree. The planet’s voice was weak, but she insisted that they keep Strife alive. Aerith didn’t understand. Strife was the one who hurt her. He and Jenova were the reason Gaia was in pain.

_No, he is a precious child..._

Strife? Aerith shook her head.

_She gave him up for me. I am too weak on my own._

Aerith still didn’t understand. She had no idea who this **‘** she **’** Gaia was speaking of.

_I am her and she is me. We are like one, yet different. What she has taken, I lack. What I have taken, she lacks._

Running these words over in her head, Aerith tried to decipher the meaning. It was as if Gaia was saying there was another version of her. But there was only one Gaia... Why would there be two?

Aerith lowered her eyes to the railing, its shining metal presenting a warped but sure reflection of her troubled face. Realization suddenly hit her. “Parallel...?”

“Aerith?” Zack cast her a concerned look.

She shook her head, turning her focus back on Gaia.

_He is hers, sent to me._

She gripped the railing, trying to sort through the many questions she had. If there were two Gaias, then there were two realities. Two worlds with differing destinies. If Strife came from another world, then who was he there? He had recoiled from the mention of Jenova as if the very thought repulsed him. If he wasn’t the son of Jenova in his world, maybe he was a fighter like them who defied the Calamity’s wish. Maybe he was like Sephiroth.

But if that was so, Aerith didn’t understand the sensations she was getting from Strife that hinted of Jenova’s influence.

_Her poison reaches deep, and he is susceptible to her callings through me. It was a risk that had to be taken in order to bring him here._

“That would just repeat history. He’d become another harbinger of destruction…” she murmured in dismay. They didn’t know enough about this Strife; they couldn’t tell how much willpower he had against Jenova. They couldn’t afford to have him fall for whatever promises the Calamity might offer him.

_He has the spirit of a warrior. His heart is compassionate. He will not go to her. However... she will go to him. He must be safe._

Aerith looked up at the sky. She wasn’t sure how to do that. She could plead Strife’s case, but even her words weren’t enough to sway the hearts of the emotionally damaged. He would be spurned and detested, offered no trust or chance in starting relationships anew. No matter where he went, someone would always curse his name and wish for his death. Those brash enough to try would attack him.

And if Jenova was actively searching and calling for him, then she, too, would be a force that would cause him harm. Jenova was likely to pursue him until he surrendered to her, no matter what it took or how long -- they couldn’t afford to let that happen.

But how could they ensure Strife’s safety?

She didn’t know. Turning to Zack, Aerith frowned in thought. Zack looked at her in confusion, his lips parting to speak. “You okay?”

“I... I stand by what I said earlier. Gaia wants us to keep him alive. She wants him safe from Jenova.” Aerith took Zack’s hand and held it. When he gave a light squeeze, she did the same. “The planet is sick, Zack. She needs us to help her, and that includes working together with Strife.”

“That’s not gonna be easy.”

“I know. He’s not who we think he is, though. He’s not the Strife we know. He’s different.”

Zack frowned in bewilderment. “Huh?”

“He’s not from this world. He’s from another one -- a world parallel to ours.”

“Wait, you’re not making any sense.”

Aerith pursed her lips as she tried to find a way to explain. As it stood, she had little to go off of, only Gaia’s word and her own intuition. She needed more information, more proof, to solidify the idea that the man they had taken from the Ancient Forest was different from their old nemesis.

There was only one way. Meeting Zack’s eyes, Aerith looked at him earnestly. “I need to speak to him.”

* * *

Cloud’s focus was trained on the wall across from him. Aerith’s words still unsettled him. _Jenova._ She brought with her only misery and desolation, and yet her presence lingered inside him. Even after he and his comrades had finished her at the Northern Crater, somehow her presence taunted them. For two years, her memory lived on in people’s minds as well as their bodies. The Geostigma ravaged the people of Midgar, making them severely ill.

Cloud, too, had been infected. It had been an uphill struggle to fight the Geostigma. There never was a day he was without pain. When the disease grew worse, he left home, abandoning the peaceful and domestic life that had slowly grown over the months. Tifa, Marlene, Denzel...

_Where were they now? Did they hate him as well?_

He feared the answer.

Clenching his fists, Cloud recounted what he knew. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and his memories of what happened came in pieces.

He knew he had fought the Remnant brothers. Kadaj had died in his arms. Loz and Yazoo... they probably died along with him -- if his current situation constituted as a proper death. Sephiroth was gone, too.

_No, not really._

Sephiroth’s lingering existence was something he couldn’t wrap his head around. His hands knew what to wrap around, but he had no means of committing to their want: kill Sephiroth.

Sephiroth simply wouldn’t let him be. He tattooed himself in Cloud’s mind, perpetually dredging up memories that dragged down his shoulders. His heart, too, was imprinted with feelings of anger, pain, disappointment, and betrayal. Sephiroth was there when he was awake, there when he was asleep, and even in this pseudo state of death, he remained.

_However..._

The man who watched him like a hawk wasn’t like the one Cloud was familiar with. Based on features alone, Sephiroth had aged several years. Cloud couldn’t say for sure, but he’d put Sephiroth somewhere near thirty. The last he knew, Sephiroth was still in his mid-twenties, frozen in age since the mission at Nibelheim.

In addition to that, he hadn’t once degraded him to some imitation of a human. A puppet whose strings he controlled. Sephiroth had hardly said a word to him so far, only stared at him with an intensity that made him react defensively. His expression was cold, and Cloud couldn’t read him past the contempt and suspicion that turned his mouth and narrowed his eyes.

Cloud closed his eyes. In the web of veins that mapped the backs of his eyelids, he drew up the image of Sephiroth locking the door to the cell and leaving him by himself. The world had shrunken down to four blank walls and a steel bench.

It was uncomfortable being trapped here, further removed from the rest of humanity and the planet. He didn’t know how long he would be stuck here, if it would be hours or days, and it was agitating knowing he had no way to fight his way out without having every person in this city aiming for his head.

He didn’t know how he could change that. He wanted and _needed_ freedom to move and speak, but he doubted either would come to him anytime soon. The stubborn fact they thought he was Jenova’s son was blocking his every step.

It still didn’t make sense why they would think that, and why Aerith said he had Sephiroth’s eyes. Green irises with slit pupils -- they were features reminiscent of when he was plagued by the Geostigma. They should’ve disappeared with the baptismal rain of the lifestream when Kadaj had blown a hole in the church’s garden.

He was washed clean of Jenova’s and Sephiroth’s influence. Or, at least, that was what he believed. Now? Time seemed to have wound back, though he lacked the physical signs.

Opening his eyes and glancing at his arm, Cloud saw he lacked the blemish of the Geostigma’s disease on his skin. If he stared hard enough into the steel bench, he could see his eyes were blue. He _looked_ devoid of Jenova’s taint.

And yet, Aerith practically claimed he wasn’t. Just that one sentence about his eyes made him uneasy.

Cloud bent forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

_What did that mean?_

What else suggested Jenova was still under his skin?

The only answer he could think of was the voice in his head. Not Gaia, but the other one that begged for his affection. The one that reminded him too much of the children in Edge without family or friends -- of Denzel, who had been a casualty during Shinra’s fanatical attempts to eliminate AVALANCHE. The destruction of the support beams for Sector 7 had killed many people, and those few who survived were, like Denzel, abandoned by the rest of society. For all its riches and attractions, Midgar could be cruel.

Its citizens, the bureaucrats, Shinra, SOLDIER -- everyone had a second face. Those who only wore one were rare, like Zack. Sephiroth probably only had one face, too.

_Did he?_

Cloud hardly knew Sephiroth. Here, there, now, then -- it didn’t matter the situation, time, or place, his knowledge of Sephiroth was limited. Who he truly was and what sort of life he really lived were details he never got to find out. Before Midgar, Sephiroth had been a fantasy. An ideal. Cloud wanted to be like him, maybe even _be_ him.

It was hard to say now if that was really how he felt then, because it certainly wasn’t how he felt anymore. Cloud couldn’t gather any affectionate feelings for Sephiroth. No respect, no idolization, no fancy -- nothing. The man was just an enemy, along with the Remnants, and Jenova.

Cloud sighed and sat back, leaning against the wall. Sephiroth. Jenova. Him. The connection between them was a tangled mess, and he couldn’t straighten it out. His thoughts looped back to Red’s words, how he was accused of being Jenova’s son.

Just supposing for a minute that had any fleck of truth to it, Cloud wondered how exactly that came about. If he was Jenova’s son, then what about Sephiroth? Sephiroth, it seemed, didn’t desire to destroy the world. That left himself.

Why would he want to destroy the planet? Why would he want to harm Gaia and her people? Was it for the same reasons as Sephiroth’s? Were they different?

Jenova’s cries were pitiful and longing. She spoke of loneliness and offered safety. She acted like both a mother and child, seeking his attention and promising peace from his troubles. Cloud wondered if these were the words Sephiroth heard, or if this was some spiel tailored to _himself_.

There were too many questions and not enough answers. Cloud wanted to resolve them all, and finally move forward, but he was stuck. Glancing at the door, he inwardly grimaced at the fact he couldn’t even talk to anyone. He doubted anyone would listen to him if he tried to plead his case.

_Damnit._

He needed to get out. There had to be a way to get around the accusation of him attempting to eradicate the planet. He didn’t know a thing about where he was, what was going on, and if he could trust anyone around him. If he learned more about his surroundings and just why he was seen as Jenova’s son -- and why Jenova was still inside him -- maybe he could finally move on to fulfilling Gaia’s wish.

If he cooperated for now, Cloud hoped that would get someone to open up to him. It strained his patience, but if, in the long run, it worked in his favor, he would have to remain on decent terms with everyone here. Eventually -- hopefully sooner rather than later -- someone would meet him halfway.

Maybe Zack would be the one?

Cloud couldn’t put all his coins in one bag, but he hoped Zack would be one of the people who would vouch for him. If they could just talk...

“Tell me!”

Cloud jerked out of his thoughts at the sudden call from the other side of the door. Looking up, he saw Aerith peeking through the door’s window. Her eyes were bright with earnest, and he didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing.

_But she wanted to talk to him._

He frowned. After a moment’s hesitation, he stood up and walked toward the door. “Tell you what?”

Aerith studied him, her fingertips curling over the lip of the window. “Tell me who you are.”

“What?” That wasn’t what he expected.

“Tell me who _you_ are,” she repeated.

“You know who I am.” Cloud wasn’t sure where this was going, or where it came from. His frown deepened, unsure if his responses helped or hindered his situation.

“No, I don’t.” Aerith shook her head. “We don’t know you at all. You reject the idea of being Jenova’s son, and you avoided me when I mentioned your eyes. That isn’t like the Strife we know. _You_ aren’t the Strife we know. Tell me who you are.”

He was stunned. Maybe he shouldn’t have been, maybe he should’ve expected her to be the first to approach him, but he had been expecting a long struggle to get any of them to reconsider their thoughts about him.

“How do you know I’m not the same?”

She leaned toward the door. “Because you aren’t from here. You’re not from this world.”

Cloud froze. A dream -- that was what his first theory was. This was just a dream. If not a dream, then maybe some strange fabrication of Gaia’s. Aerith said _world_ , as if this was not simply a different dimension, but a different planet. A different reality.

_Would you take a path that followed a different destiny?_

Gaia’s words abruptly pushed to the forefront of his mind. He still didn’t really understand it, but if he played with the question and Aerith’s statement...

“...I’m not from this _world?_ ”

Aerith shook her head. “No, you’re not. You’re from one just like this one, a reality that runs parallel to ours. I don’t…” She pressed her lips together, a slight frown between her brows as she seemed to sort through her thoughts. “You’re _not_ Jenova’s son.”

“The hell he ain’t!”

Cloud and Aerith jerked at the sudden shout. Even behind the door, he could hear Cid’s voice carry down the hall. Tilting his head, he attempted to see him coming. It was faint, but he heard the sound of several sets of feet approaching his cell.

“Wait...” Aerith turned away from him and moved off, her voice trailing.

Cloud shifted his weight and sighed silently to himself. As he thought, it would be difficult to gain any sympathy from the others.

Zack sneaked into view and gave a small smile as he approached. He looked just off to the side of the door and Cloud heard the locks click open. When the door was opened, he was tempted to exit, but held still as he met the audience on the other side. Cid was standing in the hall opposite of Aerith, the two caught mid argument. Red and Cait Sith were present as well. No Yuffie, but there was Zack.

 _And Sephiroth_.

Cloud met his gaze, muscles tensing from being scrutinized under that unwavering stare.

Aerith stepped into Sephiroth’s view, though the man didn’t look at her. “Let me talk to him. We should be doing all we can to learn about what’s going on, and I believe it starts with learning about him.”

Silence met her request.

“Please. I think I understand why Gaia wants him alive.”

Sephiroth broke eye contact to study her for a moment. Cloud’s hands curled in, certain Aerith would be refused. When Sephiroth slid his attention his way, Cloud’s jaw clenched.

“Alright. We’ll hear his story.”


	7. Chapter 6

Cloud was starting to get used to seeing old faces scrutinizing him and treating him with disdain. Reeve looked at him like he didn’t know him -- and he didn’t. None of them did. Aerith, however, wanted to remedy that. Her exclamation to speak with him had been a shock for all of them. Cloud was certain her request would be refused, but Sephiroth gave his permission.

Now, all of them were gathered in Reeve’s office. It overlooked the harbor city, as well as the clear waters. The cannon that had once been the centerpiece of the harbor now looked inoperable, possibly abandoned over time. Cloud could see it from where the office was, nested above the barrel.

He was surprised to see Reeve here. He knew Reeve was working on restoring the balance of the planet, but he had heard no word of the man calling Junon his base. Then again, he was now supposedly in a different world.

He was still trying to understand that. Gaia’s request buzzed in his head, a jumble of words that were only now starting to make sense. _Starting to._ He wouldn’t go so far as to say he grasped everything, only that he finally had something to work with.

Turning his attention to Aerith, who stood across from him, Cloud eased the tension from his shoulders.  “What did you want to know?”

“Everything. I know you aren’t from here. Who are you? Who were you in your world?”

“ _His_ world?” Yuffie leaned in, alarm written on her face. “As in another one? Like Jenova?”

“No, not like that.” Aerith’s lips pressed together. She stared at Cloud intently. “As in he’s from a world just like ours. You come from a reality that isn’t that different from ours, don’t you?”

Cloud said nothing.

“You aren’t Jenova’s son.” Aerith’s words were the very same Cloud had told Red, and would continue to tell anyone who asked or accused him. To hear someone say he wasn’t Jenova’s son, and with certainty, was both unexpected and relieving. “You refuse to acknowledge her as your mother even though that is who we know you as.”

“She isn’t,” he agreed.

Before anyone could interrupt, Aerith quickly continued, “Then who is she to you?”

“She’s the Calamity. She’s nothing more than a monster that needs to be destroyed.” His gaze darted to the others. “Whatever you think, I’m not her son.”

“Who are you, then?” Red asked, ears perked in interest.

Cloud’s hands curled in. That was a simple question with a complicated answer. He didn’t know where to start, if he was one of the planet’s saviors, or a member of AVALANCHE, or a fraud SOLDIER, or a man who had been forced to face tragedy at a terribly young age.

He supposed it all came down to one thing: “Nobody.”

He wasn’t someone who deserved any special treatment. He had no medals or title to imply an important status. He didn’t carry with him any proof of his trials and accomplishments, however few they were. He was just some guy from a small town in the middle of the mountains. A _nobody_.

“That’s not an answer.”

Cloud was just short of bristling when Sephiroth spoke. He shot the man a look, his lips flattening into a line. “I’m from Nibelheim; that town doesn’t breed heroes. I was nobody there, and when I joined Shinra, I was nobody there as well. ...I never made it into SOLDIER, so I still wasn’t a _somebody._ ”

“You never made it into SOLDIER?” Zack’s incredulous tone drew his gaze.

“No.” The reminder of his failure scratched at his throat. Cloud swallowed it down and kept his voice level. “I never passed the exam to enter the program.”

“Your eyes glow like you’ve been injected with mako...” Zack looked at him in confusion. Cloud had always known Zack to have bright blue eyes, their glow a trademark feature for every SOLDIER. He liked Zack’s eyes, because just as they were bright, they were also warm.

As a teen, he had wondered if his eyes would ever be like that. If he made it into SOLDIER, would he have the same warm blues that Zack had?

_But he didn’t make it into SOLDIER. His eyes were a fraud._

Jaw ticking, Cloud tried to bury the sour thought. “I had mako poisoning.”

Aerith’s eyes widened. Cloud tried to read the emotions on her face, but there were too many to sort through, changing too quickly for him to catch. Looking at Zack again, he saw it was frozen in disbelief. He didn’t mean to upset Zack, but truth was truth; he had to be trapped in an underground laboratory for almost half a decade in order to gain the same traits and abilities normal SOLDIERs had.

“That’s...”

Cloud returned his attention on Aerith and almost looked away again. Her expression had finally settled into one of pity and horror. Or maybe it was sympathy?

_She doesn’t truly care for you._

That voice was back.

“What happened?” Zack asked.

Cloud shook his head, partly to remove the voice in his head, and partly to suppress the painful emotions that came with the topic. He wasn’t enthused about talking about that time, but this was a chance for him to explain himself and let them see he wasn’t related to Jenova.

“I was part of the group that went to check on the Nibelheim reactor. When the town was burned down--” he shot a brief accusatory look at Sephiroth, “--I was injured. Hojo took me for experiments. He thought he could make another Sephiroth, so I was kept in a tank full of mako for almost five years. ...I turned out to be a failure, though.”

_You were perfect. He presumed you deficient, but you were everything he could hope for and more. You_ **_are_ ** _everything. No one sees it. Not as I do._

Cloud mentally pushed her away. He didn’t want to listen to her.

Aerith stepped toward him. She paused as if uncertain before reaching for his hands, holding them in hers. Cloud stiffened but didn’t pull away. “I’ve seen those who have been poisoned. Shinra and Hojo experimented on many people, hurting and killing them. You made it out.”

“With help,” he muttered. Zack was the reason he was alive.

“What about Jenova?” Yuffie quipped.

“Being infused with Jenova’s cells was part of the experiments... the Jenova Project.”

“So even if you say you aren’t Jenova’s son, you still got her inside you.” Cid’s suspicion was clear in his voice. “How do we know you aren’t her puppet?”

_You are only a puppet to those who deceive and distrust you. Aren’t you already_ **_their_ ** _puppet? They take everything away from you, leaving you nothing. You are oppressed, made docile to their commands._

Cloud knit his brows to hide a flinch.

Aerith turned to Cid in disapproval. “Stop. I want to talk to him, not accuse him.”

“I’m not accusing, I’m stating the truth,” Cid returned.

“He’s here to help us. Gaia needs him, just as she needs all of us, to keep her safe.” Aerith looked at Cloud again, lightly squeezing his hands. She searched his face. “You’ve done it before. In your world, you fought _for_ the planet, and you know us.”

He nodded.

“Who were we?”

“Allies and friends. I traveled with AVALANCHE to hunt down Jenova...” His gaze landed on Sephiroth, his voice low. “...and you. You took everything away from me.”

_He’ll do it again. He won’t let you live. You won’t be able to do what you want, he’ll make sure of that._

Pain spiked in his head. He shook it off and eased out of Aerith’s grasp. Every word was like a needle spearing his mind. He didn’t want to admit it, but the voice was right. Sephiroth was likely the least enthused about the idea of giving him a chance.

Sephiroth didn’t like him, just as Cloud didn’t like him. If he was in Sephiroth’s place, he’d probably act the same way. But he was on the other side. In this backwards world, he was the enemy while Sephiroth remained the hero.

It stung. Even in this reality, Sephiroth remained perched on his pedestal. He was someone the others respected, and maybe even considered a friend. Cloud couldn’t help but hate him a little for that. It was probably a childish feeling, but _he_ had once looked up to Sephiroth too. He wasn’t someone Cloud could ever relate to, though it had once been his wish to be close to him.

_There’s no reason to pine for something that will never change. He will abandon you. They will all cast you aside._  

“Did you...” Aerith called his attention. “Did you save your world?”

“Yes. At a heavy cost...”

He grimaced, partially because of the old wound of having Aerith taken away from them in the Forbidden City, and partially because he felt claws digging into his mind. They raked along the walls of his conscious, making him slightly nauseous.

Why couldn’t he make her go away?

_Don’t push me away. I will give you everything. Please, let us be together._

“You said you were here to save someone.”

Cloud forced himself to focus on Red in hopes of distracting himself from the pain. “Yeah.”

The lion tilted his head in a curious gesture. “Does this just mean the planet, or someone else as well?”

Cloud tried to shake his head but quickly stopped. Sudden movements made his head hurt worse. He wanted to sit down, but his legs wouldn’t bend. “I’m not sure. It might.”

He knew he had to save **‘** someone **’** but who that was eluded him. He wanted to voice this, but he felt if he did, his helplessness would be made clear. He was a wandering fool, grasping at straws while stuck in a foreign world, with his friends wanting to kill him. He couldn’t save anyone here, especially when he didn’t know who he was supposed to be saving in the first place.

_Save me. Save_ **_yourself_** _. Who said you aren’t the one that needs saving? I can be the one to do that. I can be everything you want and need. I love you. Please, share your love with me, too._

He gritted his teeth. He didn’t want her love. He wasn’t going to love her, either. He wanted nothing to do with her.

“That’s not very specific.” Cid frowned, still disgruntled.

“But it still remains Gaia doesn’t want us to harm him. He can fight alongside us,” Aerith offered.

Yuffie shifted her weight, her eyes moving back and forth between them. “But... even if he fights with us, what are we supposed to do about Jenova? I mean, she’s back, right? That’s what we’re talking about?”

“Aye, seems like it.” Cait Sith rubbed a gloved hand over his head.

“We haven’t seen much of that,” Zack noted. “It’s been little more than a day, but shouldn’t we have seen something by now? Besides this.”

Aerith shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“I still don’t think we should be trusting him.” Cid’s lips turned into a stubborn scowl.

_See how they argue?_

Cloud could barely hear them. Jenova’s voice -- it had to be hers, there was no other possibility -- grew louder, drowning out all other sounds. He felt her reaching for him, phantom arms slowly circling him.

_They doubt. They don’t believe you. None of them truly understands what you are going through -- what you have been through. They will take you for granted, even_ **_if_ ** _they decide to let you live._

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shove her back.

_I will listen to you. I will free you from your suffering. Just let us be together. Let me embrace you._

A hand suddenly gripped his arm like a vice, cool leather pressed against his skin. Cloud jerked, his eyes flying open. He looked up at Sephiroth who had suddenly crossed the distance between them. His skin burned where Sephiroth touched him, too close to the sensation of Jenova’s reaching hands.

Yanking out of Sephiroth’s grasp, Cloud narrowed his eyes. “Don’t touch me.”

_Please... Please, let me..._

He stumbled, vertigo rocking his balance. Cloud’s vision swam, certain his knees would finally buckle, when he felt Sephiroth grab him again, trapping both of his arms.

The backs of Cloud’s eyes burned as he focused on the man’s face, meeting that piercing stare. The pounding in his head felt like a thousand hammers and clubs beating against the walls of his mind. Swallowing thickly, he tried to pull free, but Sephiroth didn’t let him go.

“I said don’t touch me,” he forced out through clenched teeth. He barely heard himself, as if he was speaking from a distance.

Sephiroth’s grip only tightened. He stepped closer to Cloud, towering over him.

The close proximity of the other man’s body was suffocating. Cloud sucked in a breath, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt ill, and forced himself to remain on his own two feet. He wasn’t going to sag in the man’s arms like some pup needing support. He wouldn’t show Sephiroth any more weakness than he already had.

Exhaling shakily, he didn’t blink as he held eye contact with the taller man. Gradually, the nausea and dizziness faded, and the burning behind his eyes seceded as well. Jenova hissed in the back of his mind, but as he slowly gathered himself together and managed to stand up straight without wanting to tuck his head between his knees, she, too, left.

He didn’t understand why or how she had been chased away, but relief washed over him all the same. Sucking in another breath, he shuddered at the lingering contact between him and Sephiroth.

“Let go,” he repeated, his voice rough.

Sephiroth either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him because he still didn’t release him. He stared at him, green eyes narrowing to match his own expression.

“We won’t kill you, but you are still dangerous here. You are connected to Jenova; you’re not leaving our sight.”

Cloud wore a look of distaste but didn’t argue. He clenched his fists, too aware of the meaning of those words. Jenova was affecting him, and he didn’t know how to fight her. He’d never had this happen before. He’d never felt her dig into him like this when he was chasing after the Sephiroth of his world.

Knowing she was inside him again, spinning her lies and trying to coax him into siding with her, nearly made him nauseous again. Before, he had constantly been degraded to a puppet, seen as a tool rather than a person -- an expendable pawn on the chessboard in Jenova’s ploy.

Here, he knew he was still a pawn, but her tactic had changed. She insisted he was special, that he would never be wanted by anyone except her, and her love would be more than enough for him. It was disgusting. He didn’t want to be treated like a toy, and he certainly didn’t want to be cherished by a monster.

“Hey, Sephiroth?” Zack came around, entering the corner of Cloud’s view. “Maybe we should--”

An alarm suddenly blared just beyond the doors, cutting him off. A comm on Reeve's desk chirruped. “ _Reeve, sir!_ ”

“What is it?”

For the first time, Cloud heard him speak. He had forgotten the man was there.

“ _There are monsters entering Junon from the port! What do we do?_ ”

“Have a unit go there immediately to handle the monsters. We need another unit to make sure the civilians are moved to safety.”

“ _Yes, sir!_ ”

Reeve turned and looked right at Cloud. The question was there, even if he hadn't said it aloud: who or what was the cause? There was only one answer, and Cloud knew everyone had all thought it because their eyes landed on him. _He_ was the cause. Whether or not he had a personal hand in it, it didn’t matter. He was the source of the threat.

Sephiroth finally released him and turned to the others. “Cid, Yuffie, guard him.”

“What? I’m not--”

“But--”

“Keep him safe.” Sephiroth glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “We’re not done yet. Zack, help get the citizens to safety. Everyone else, we’ll spread out and eliminate the threat.”

There was a chorus of agreement, albeit a couple were made reluctantly, before they started leaving the office. Sephiroth paused to give a few final words before he left. “Make sure he doesn’t try to run away. If he does, subdue him, but don’t kill him.”

Cid grumbled his compliance and Yuffie wore a worried look before nodding. “Okay.”

Cloud’s mouth set into a flat line but let himself be ordered to stay put. Sephiroth wouldn’t let him move a muscle. He’d likely pin Cloud down himself if necessary. Cloud couldn’t let that happen.

* * *

“Aerith.”

She turned around to look at Zack and seemed to sense what he was thinking because she took his hand. His fingers curled around hers. “What you said back there. About Strife fighting on our side, and the whole parallel worlds thing. Is it really true?”

“Yes. He comes from a different world, much like ours, where he is not the one who tried to ruin the planet. He's innocent.”

“That’s great, but...” His mouth quickly turned down. “Cid’s definitely against it. The others are, too.”

“I know, but we can’t give up.” She bridged the gap between them and briefly hugged him. “He’ll suffer for our sake, and for Gaia’s.”

Zack wrapped his arms around her. “I still don’t get why this is happening. Jenova, him, everything. I thought we took care of things.”

“I wish I knew as well. Gaia is sick, to the point she had to call him here. Whatever is happening to her...” She shook her head. Zack held her closer. “We _must_ work together.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Zack gave one last squeeze before letting go. He smiled at her. “When you put two good things together, you get something great. Like us! Now let’s go save Junon.”

Aerith laughed softly and nodded. “Okay.”

* * *

He turned his wrist, angling the strike across the beast’s torso. It was a clean cut, slicing the beast perfectly in two. Sephiroth moved with deadly grace, green eyes focused on the enemies before him. The challenge was not the monsters themselves but his surroundings. He had to tailor his attacks and avoid as much collateral damage as possible.

There was some saving grace that the attack had come from the waters instead of land. They could back them into its depths and build a barricade to prevent their return. Reeve would have to coordinate his troops and make changes to assure the harbor town remained safe.

This massive assault bothered him. They were fortunate they weren’t in a larger city. It was clear they were here for Strife, be it to take him or kill him, or kill _them_ for keeping him away from Jenova. Which one it was remained uncertain, but regardless the answer, they had to stop this attack.

Jenova shouldn’t have express power over the beasts that roamed the planet. They were free creatures. Gaia was the only one who had any hold over them, if she were to exert any command at all. Surely, Gaia would’ve prevented Jenova from doing this.

_Why wasn’t she?_

Sephiroth sliced through two foes at once, taking their heads clean off their shoulders.

_Was the situation worse than they thought?_

He didn’t have the connection Aerith had with Gaia. He couldn’t hear her voice or follow her direction. To ask her to show them what was happening to her would be impossible, and it irritated him to know this. As it stood, they were floundering in the dark.

There had to be a way to fix this. Gaia was unable to heal herself, to the point she brought Strife over from a parallel world.

The concept of a parallel world didn’t bother Sephiroth as it probably should’ve. It was the fact _Strife_ was the one to carry between the dimensions that made him uneasy.

_Of all people, it had to be_ **_him_** _._

Jumping to a high roof, Sephiroth surveyed his surroundings. He heard the gunfire of infantrymen engaged in their battles. While not products of Shinra, they trained to keep the planet safe. Reeve took them in and watched over them here at Junon. What had started out as a small group expanded into a few organization of eager individuals who wanted to restore the balance between the people and create a peaceful place for everyone to live. It was two years in the making and there was much to be done.

Especially now. They were facing a potential repeat of history, and the planet’s defenses were worse off than it was the first time. If Strife joined Jenova, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Sephiroth’s grip tightened around the handle of his sword. His hands felt hot under his gloves. He hadn’t meant to touch Strife. He wanted to avoid any physical contact with the other man, but when he saw the strain in his face to keep his expression neutral, and the precarious balance he maintained to stay upright, Sephiroth reached for him. He should’ve reached for his sword instead, especially when a bright green had rolled over Strife’s irises, but being able to touch Strife made him falter.

He’d stepped closer to Strife without conscious thought, and it took a great amount of effort to keep his emotions in check. He wiped all expression from his face as he met Strife’s eyes. It was both nostalgic and foreign to see that handsome face looking up at him.

Years ago, that same face would look up at him with affection. A smile would curl his lips, and when he would lean into him...

Sephiroth slammed the brakes on that train of thought. He wouldn’t let his emotions take control. They couldn’t trust Strife. There were still too many unknowns surrounding the man. He was too dangerous to be left alone.

Sephiroth lifted his hand, turning his palm up to stare at it. His jaw clenched and he curled his fingers in. No matter how good it felt to be touch Strife, he couldn’t be swayed by the longing in his heart.


	8. Chapter 7

Cid glared at the door that everyone else had left through. The only people keeping company here were him, Yuffie, Strife, and Reeve, who stood behind his desk, half paying attention to them as he looked outside the windows. He might’ve looked like the weakest of them, but even he had a gun resting in his hand.

Frankly, Cid could hardly swallow they were keeping Strife around. Maybe Strife didn’t have a personal hand in ruining Cid’s life -- that was more Shinra’s fault -- but that didn’t change the fact that his life was ruined, along with many others. Families were broken, friends divided. Cid saw his share of the nastiness that was Strife’s doing. His comrades were hurt because of Strife and Shinra.

It struck a nerve to know Shinra once invested in Strife. The corporation had no qualms with exploiting people for their own gains. Even after all this time, it was hard to believe they were **‘** reformed. **’** For all they knew, it was a ruse and those guys at Shinra were just biding their time.

_Strife could be the same way._

Aerith was adamant about Strife’s innocence and how Gaia wanted him around. Maybe she was right, but after all that had happened, he couldn’t be faulted for the bitter attitude he gave. He wasn’t the only one who felt like this was going to backfire on them. Looking at Yuffie as she kept stealing glances at Strife was enough to say the majority of their party was uncomfortable with Aerith’s plan.

Cid exhaled harshly and lit up a cigarette, ignoring the look of disapproval Reeve gave him. He was getting too old for this. He knew he was only in his mid-thirties, but what happened three years ago, and everything before that, made him feel like he was knocking on fifty.

Maybe if he wasn’t so tired he’d be more cooperative about this whole thing. If he’d just gotten a decent night of sleep, he might’ve backed off a bit, but he was running on fumes, and his temper had never been good to begin with.

Hell, they were all getting stretched thin. Since he got the call from Cait Sith and picked up the others, they’d been traveling and fighting without proper rest. The hours spent with Strife passed out in the back of the _Highwind_ hardly counted as true respite for them when everyone was on edge.

Glancing at him, Cid hid a frown behind his hand as he drew a puff. He hadn’t been paying that much attention, but he saw enough to know Strife was unstable. Jenova was definitely in him, everyone agreed on that. What she was doing to Strife, they didn’t know yet, but it was clear Strife wasn’t faring that well against it.

If he was any other person, Cid would’ve instantly felt sorry for him. He had his own grievances, but having Jenova fucking around in his head was completely different. Cid couldn’t even begin to imagine what Strife was hearing -- and he wasn’t going to try to.

Turning his head, Cid tried to squash the emotions that stirred inside him. He was tired of this. He didn’t want to be babysitting Strife; all it did was make him angry. Not all of his anger was even directed at Strife, but he damn well was convenient enough to point a finger at.

_Let Sephiroth take care of this kid, not him._

“What happened to you?”

Cid turned back toward Strife. “ _Huh?_ ”

“Why are you fighting?”

He scowled. “Because you tried to destroy everything. That’s enough of a reason, ain’t it?”

“I guess.” Strife’s voice was quiet. “Were you able to fly into space?”

“How do you know about that?”

There was a moment of hesitation. “In... my world, Cid dreamed of going into space. Shinra offered to sponsor the program, but when the launch failed, they abandoned it.”

Cid snorted. “Well, you got one thing right. Shinra did sponsor the program, but it didn’t fail.” His mouth twisted into disgust. “I just wasn’t the one to pilot it. They took that away from me before I could sit in the damn chair. Some snot-nosed rookie who barely knew his left from his right, let alone how to fly a rocket, got to do it.”

Thinking about that awful day just added one more reason to be angry. “But y’know what? People died for that launch to happen. That’s what really pissed me off. Shinra sacrificed my crew to make sure it succeeded. I couldn’t stand by that, so when I got asked to fight against them, you bet your ass I agreed to join.”

Strife was silent after that. Cid didn’t know what he was thinking. He didn’t like there being walls thrown up between him and another person. It left a lot of room to interpret, and that included coming to negative conclusions.

Cid tried to reel in his ire and frustration. He didn’t really want to talk to Strife. He’d rather be out with the others defending the harbor, but since he was stuck here, there wasn’t much else to do besides gripe and muscle through some semblance of a conversation with the guy who was supposed to be their _ally_.

“...What’s so special about you, anyway?” When a frown answered him, Cid returned it. “You’re from another world, right? You saved the planet, yada yada. What makes you so special that _you_ had to come here?”

Strife shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Yuffie shifted her weight back and forth. “We saw you fight earlier. You’re pretty strong. Maybe that’s why?”

“Maybe... I didn’t become strong by myself. I had comrades. You, the others, and even you, Reeve.”

Cid glanced over his shoulder to see the surprise on the other man’s face.

“But you went toe to toe with Sephiroth! Friends don’t do that,” Yuffie continued. She shuffled her way to where Cid was, not quite hiding behind him but certainly not standing in front of him either.

“I guess so.” Strife looked over their shoulder. Cid didn’t think he was actually staring _at_ something; there was nothing there worth staring at. “A lot happened... We couldn’t save the planet without getting stronger. I did everything I could to defeat Jenova and be on par with Sephiroth.”

Yuffie was silent for a beat before coming to stand by Cid. “Hey, uh, our worlds are parallel, right? So doesn’t that mean a lot of our history is the same?”

“Probably.” Strife’s brows knit. Cid’s did the same; he had a feeling he knew where this was headed.

“What happened to Wutai?”

“During the war?” When Yuffie nodded, Strife studied her before replying, “Wutai lost. When Shinra sent in SOLDIER, they also sent Sephiroth. A lot of people lost their lives, and Wutai suffered more than Shinra.”

Yuffie’s face fell. The kid loved her country and hometown. Cid remembered when they traveled to Wutai. It hadn’t been of much interest to him at the time, but Cid could appreciate the place. He sympathized with the people and their misfortune.

Unable to help himself, he placed a hand atop her head and lightly ruffled her hair. Shinra had destroyed some of the historical structures during the war, and even more when AVALANCHE -- the original one -- had made Wutai’s capital as their base. Yuffie’s life was full of sadness and tragedy at a very young age. She was just a kid. At least Cid could say he was an adult when Shinra screwed him over. Yuffie didn’t get that mercy.

She batted away his hand and looked at him in mild annoyance. She didn’t like being treated as a kid, even though she was the youngest of them all. “Do I make it? What am I doing over there?”

“You--”

Cid could see her rising interest, her desperation. He didn’t know what she was hoping to gain by learning about who she was in Strife’s world, but the idea of continuing this topic didn’t settle well with him. He quickly interrupted before Strife could get another word out.

“Hey! Who cares? That place doesn’t have anything to do with us.” When Yuffie whipped her head around to look at him, he gave her a stern look. “We’re not here to have a pow-wow. I don’t want to hear about some other me in a place I don’t know, doing things I don’t know. Unless it’s gonna affect me here and now, I’m not interested.”

Whatever Yuffie was looking for, it wasn’t going to be found in Strife. It was best to nip it in the bud before Yuffie started asking questions she didn’t need to -- probably _shouldn’t_ for that matter.

“But--”

“I don’t wanna know.”

Yuffie bit her lip. She huffed and reluctantly backed down. “Okay...”

* * *

Red eyes shifted to the crumbling of rock creating a fissure in the floor of the crater. Wisps of black drifted from the opening, spreading out like reaching vines. They wrapped and twisted, slowly gathering into three different masses. He narrowed his eyes as three figures emerged from the black nests.

They were male, young, each looking strikingly different from the other, yet carrying the same aura of malicious intent. The black swirls at their feet surged up to cover their bodies, morphing into clothing. A few words were exchanged. One of them held up a hand and in it formed a sword with pronged blades. He swung it around like a child experimenting with a new toy before putting it away.

The other two fashioned their own weapons, one taking the opportunity to test it against the rock upon which they stood. It cracked under his attack, a small crater at its center. The elation on his face as he looked at his handiwork was disturbing.

Vincent moved back before the third could experiment with his newly formed gun. He'd seen enough.

* * *

“Sephiroth!”

Sephiroth turned as Zack jogged toward him. “The civilians?”

“All safe. I let Reeve know and he’s taking care of things.” Zack came to stand next to him and they both took in the damage left by the invasion. Several buildings were damaged, a few homes, but most of the harbor city was still in one piece. The people would have places to return to.

“Cid and Yuffie?”

Zack nodded. “Sounds like everything’s okay over there as well. No one got hurt, and Strife didn’t give them any trouble.”

Good. Sephiroth didn’t want to think of what actions would have to be taken if Strife decided to fight them now. It had clawed open his heart when he had to fight Strife the first time. Even if this Strife was a different person, he questioned if he could stomach cutting him down.

 _To kill him again..._  

Sephiroth surveyed the streets where some of the clean-up crew was removing the debris and carcasses from sight. It was a dirty, tedious job that garnered no envy.

“Looks like everyone made it out okay. Reeve’s got a pretty good security system going. They caught on before any major damage was done.” Zack leaned forward a little. “If they hadn’t, this place would’ve been in chaos. ...This shouldn’t have happened.”

He agreed. It shouldn’t have. It likely never would have if Strife hadn’t arrived. A couple monsters sneaking around the edges of the city was nothing out of the norm, but when a wave of them came at once, that was worth every concern.

_Was it a bad decision to bring him here?_

“I guess you could say this is his welcoming party, huh?”

Sephiroth’s lips flattened into a thin line. He didn’t like the idea of this being Jenova’s open invitation for Strife to go to her. She was being aggressive in her pursuit. Strife’s mental struggle was proof of this. If he fought her, she would likely pursue different routes to get to him. That didn’t bode well for any of them.

“Hey...”

Sephiroth pulled out of his thoughts. “What is it?”

Zack ran a hand through his hair, a telling sign he was about to say something Sephiroth probably wouldn’t like. No, he _knew_ he wasn’t going to like it; he could tell what Zack was going to say.

“Look, I know this is asking a lot, but can we just trust Aerith on this one? Strife’s innocent, and Gaia sent him here to help us out with whatever is going on. We should give him a chance.” He was quick to hold up his hands and gesture for Sephiroth to wait. “I know not everyone’s gonna agree. Maybe we can’t trust him, but how do we know for sure without giving this a shot? Don’t you think it’s better to get to know him and try to work together?”

Sephiroth frowned, mostly to himself. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this course of action. Would it be beneficial? Detrimental? Did he want to know more? Did he not? Mentally shrugging off the questions, he nodded. “We’ll try this your way.”

Zack gave a smile, but Sephiroth didn’t return it. They would give Strife a chance to prove himself. If Strife showed he fit into Aerith’s theory, and he could help them, they could loosen his bonds a little and make plans to move forward. If not, then they would treat him like any other enemy and kill him.

* * *

Cloud turned when the office doors were opened and the others returned. He hadn’t heard much on the results on the assault, only Reeve’s few words that the harbor was safe. Seeing them enter, it was clear the battle wasn’t worth much worry. Did that mean the monsters were that weak, or that Sephiroth and the others were that strong? Without personal reference, Cloud didn’t know. He hoped he wouldn’t find out by having to fight against them.

As Sephiroth stopped before him, Cloud focused on him. He didn’t consider the fight in the Ancient Forest as a proper gauge for how strong the man was; he had been too confused and disoriented to fight with a sound mind. He wondered if Sephiroth was just as formidable here as he was in the other world, or if his abilities were even more fearsome.

He wanted to know, but in terms of dueling the older man. Even though it was made clear the two of them weren’t related to each other as foes, Cloud couldn’t quite squash that instinct to fight Sephiroth to the death.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Sephiroth felt the same. He likely saw in Cloud just another enemy. They weren’t going to get along, even if everyone climbed aboard Aerith’s request.

“Your workers are cleaning up the streets and containing the damage.” Sephiroth was speaking to Reeve, but he still looked at Cloud.

“From what I can see up here, they should have everything cleaned up by tonight.”

Hearing this was relieving. Even though he had no hand in initiating this attack on the city, he was part of the cause. The others thought so, too. It was written in their faces. Being responsible for harming other people reminded him of when he and AVALANCHE were still in Midgar. Barret and the others had been adamant about opposing Shinra, going so far as to destroy the mako reactors. Their actions triggered President Shinra to collapse the whole upper plate of Sector 7. Cloud didn’t personally press the button, but he was still at fault.

He shifted his gaze away, looking past Sephiroth’s shoulder.

“Jenova.”

He met Sephiroth’s eyes. “I didn’t bring them here.”

“Not directly, but they were here because of you. Your connection to Jenova is strong, and she’s calling you.”

“...Yes.”

Saying it aloud as opposed to having the thought circling his head solidified the horrifying truth. He wasn’t Jenova’s son, but she wanted him all the same. Somehow, she was flowing through him again. It had to have happened sometime between when he was with Gaia and when he fought with Sephiroth.

The void, the array of lights, the music, the hands grabbing at him... that was probably where it started. He had fought as hard as he could. He would continue to fight, especially now that he knew Jenova was heavily pursuing him.

“I’m not going to her.” These words were both for them as well as himself.

“Can you truly commit to that? You’ve yet to show you can control yourself.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. She won’t have her way.”

Sephiroth matched his expression, tension slowly building between them. Cloud knew this was going to be an uphill fight, and he was already slipping on muddy ground, but if he had to crawl on hands and knees to make sure Jenova didn’t win, he’d do it.

He’d do whatever it took, and he would show Sephiroth that. All of them would see the strength of his conviction.

“Hey.”

Zack’s voice cut in, breaking Cloud’s focus. He took a mental step back and reeled in his temper before he did something he might regret.

“Hey, Strife? Cloud? Which do you like?”

“...Cloud.” He was surprised. This was the first time any of them had called his name, or bothered to ask how he wanted to addressed.

“Cloud. Okay.”

Zack smiled, and Cloud knew it was a pacifying gesture, but he couldn’t help the way his shoulders dropped. Cords of tension were still strung tight along his back, but he found it difficult to express the same anger he had for Sephiroth towards Zack.

“Think we could talk a bit more about you?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You. Tell us something about yourself. Anything at all.” Zack paused. “Or how about me? Were we buddies?”

This was a sore subject to start with. Cloud didn’t know if this was better than butting heads with Sephiroth.

“Yeah, I guess so. You were of higher rank than me, but you still talked to me like it was normal,” he replied in a low voice.

Zack had always been kind to him. Maybe some of the things Zack said were canned responses, but to Cloud, they felt special -- like Zack was looking at _him_ , not just some nameless kid in a uniform.

“Sounds like the other me wasn’t that different,” Zack hummed thoughtfully. “What rank was I?”

“First Class.”

Zack nodded, a proud grin on his face. Cloud found it a little amusing -- it was as if Zack was praising a son instead of himself -- but not enough to cut through the dour mood hanging over him.

Being surrounded by these people who looked exactly like his friends yet didn’t treat him as such made him uncomfortable. Talking to Zack about himself was even more unsettling. This topic was a private matter he hadn’t really shared with his comrades back home.

“Nice! I bet we spent some quality time together, huh?”

He didn’t respond, only looked away. The time spent with Zack could be considered quality, though it was painfully brief.

“Let’s do that right now.”

Cloud looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Zack came up to him. “Let’s have some quality time together. You and me. Remember what I said earlier? If we’re gonna fight against Jenova, we gotta get along, and that starts with knowing each other. You gotta communicate.”

He’d forgotten their talk in the _Highwind_. The fast succession of events threw him off; it slipped his mind that Zack even said that. Recalling it, Cloud gave a small nod. If it was just him and Zack, maybe this would be easier than talking to all of them at once. Not everyone was willing to meet him halfway.

_Sephiroth certainly wasn’t showing any interest._

“Great!” Zack smiled brightly and ruffled his hair. The action startled Cloud and he ducked away, eyes wide. Zack froze, confusion written on his features, before he softened his smile and lowered his hand. “I bet you’re feeling starved. Let’s go grab something to eat and sit outside. What do you say?”

Cloud muttered his agreement. Zack didn’t touch him again, but he gestured for Cloud to follow. He couldn’t do anything but trail after the other man, skirting the others as he left.


	9. Chapter 8

Zack took them to a cafe that wasn’t near the attack, and got them both a sandwich. He found a bench a fair distance away where they could overlook the water. It was a high vantage point that gave them a good view of the rest of the harbor. All he had to do was lean forward and he could see the clean-up was still underway, but where the streets were clear of debris, some of the civilians were trickling in.

Zack had taken them to one of the shelter zones during the invasion, and he was relieved they didn’t meet much interference along the way. The people were frightened, and he did his best to encourage them and ensure they were safe.

He could see the ones who were coming back were still a little shaken, but Reeve would console them. That bureaucratic part of him was pretty good at talking to the masses and calming them down.

Sitting back against the bench, Zack snuck a glance at Cloud. He’d taken the cuffs off the blond’s wrists so he could eat. Relief had been written clearly on Cloud’s features, and Zack kinda felt bad they had to be doing this.

He knew why they were taking these precautions, but after all that happened, after what Aerith said, it didn’t seem necessary. Besides, none of them saw what he had when Cloud woke up in the _Highwind_. Those mannerisms, those expressions, they were all genuine. Cloud didn’t act like Strife despite their similar appearance, and he seemed to really have lived a different life than what happened here.

None of them really knew what sort of life that was, and the overall reluctance the others had to reach out to him was saddening. Aerith could only do so much on her own; he had to make the effort, too. Sephiroth definitely wasn’t going to raise his hand to do the task, but Zack didn’t expect him to.

Besides, Cloud’s defenses seemed to come down when they were together. Only one instance could back this thought, but as they sat together, Cloud looked less cornered than when they were all in Reeve’s office.

Zack never did like making a person so uncomfortable. Even when he hated someone, emotional or physical torture was never a method he leaned toward. What they were doing to Cloud was torture.

“How is it?” he asked, tilting his head to get a decent view of Cloud’s face. The man had ducked his head as soon as he ate. He was probably starving, but the motions were paced and mechanical, as if Cloud wasn’t really paying attention to it. “Cloud?”

Cloud glanced at him through the parting between his bangs. “It’s good...”

“Yeah? I like my meat, too.” Cloud was probably just saying it to humor him, but Zack nodded anyway. “There’s this place in Midgar that does some pretty good barbecue. Maybe I’ll take you sometime.”

“I don’t think the others would agree to that.”

Zack lowered his sandwich before he could get another bite in. “Because you’re **‘** the enemy **’**?”

“Aren’t I? In your world.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “ _Strife_ was our enemy. _Cloud_ isn’t.”

Cloud lifted his head, befuddlement clear on his face.

“Aerith said you came from another world, and I’m gonna believe her. She’s generally right about these things, y’know?” He didn’t know a thing about who Aerith was in Cloud’s world, but he was willing to bet she wasn’t any different from the one he’d fallen in love with.

The corner of Cloud’s mouth tipped up just slightly. “She is.”

Zack nodded, inwardly smiling at the reaction he got. “That means you’re not **‘** the enemy. **’** You’re a different person from a different world, with a different life and history.”

“Yeah.” The curl in Cloud’s mouth widened slightly, not quite a smile, but Zack liked the way it looked on Cloud’s face anyway.

He took a moment to bite into his sandwich, letting the time he had to chew be an excuse to think things over. In truth, part of him wanted to get to know Cloud just because he wanted to. His efforts were, indeed, so they could all reach some common ground with Cloud, but on a personal level, Zack didn’t think it was a bad idea just to talk with him as a friend.

_Right, they were friends in the other world._

“Hey, Cloud? We were buddies, right? What am I doing over there now?”

The would-be smile vanished from Cloud’s face as he lowered his eyes.

Zack turned toward him, concerned. “Cloud?”

It took a moment before Cloud answered him. “You’re dead...”

He stopped, shocked. “What happened?”

Cloud lifted his head but still wouldn’t look at him. “When Sephiroth burned down Nibelheim, you were there, too. We were both taken in by Hojo and experimented on. After almost five years, we finally escaped, but you were the only one who made it out intact. I couldn't...” He trailed off. Zack waited patiently for him to continue. “...We ran from SOLDIER and the Turks. We almost made it back to Midgar, but SOLDIER caught up with us. You fought them. You could’ve run by yourself, but...”

Zack’s chest tightened when Cloud finally turned his way. Even though Cloud was obviously trying to hide the suffering, it was clear in his eyes how much his death had hurt him. The Zack Cloud knew _really_ meant something to him.

It was hard to witness Cloud appearing so vulnerable. Even if he wasn’t Strife, just the pain etched deep in his eyes tugged at Zack’s heartstrings. “I don’t regret it.”

Though Cloud had rejected having his head touched, Zack dared to sling an arm around his shoulders in a comforting gesture. “I know I’m not the Zack you know, but if I was in that situation, I’d do the same thing. We’re friends. That’s what friends do, right?"

Cloud’s hands tightened around the sandwich and he looked away again. Zack hoped his words had a positive impact on him. He kept his arm around Cloud's shoulders and bit into his sandwich, eyes turned toward the sky.

“I met Strife in Midgar when he was still in training. He was pretty shy. I guess it’s because he was young. How old were you when you joined?”

“About fifteen.”

“Same as Strife. He stuck out, and I’m not just talking about the hair. He always seemed to be alone, so one day I went over and talked to him.” He still remembered how awkward Strife had been, unused to someone paying attention to him -- _positive_ attention. “He had talent, but no one really saw it. Or, I guess, he wasn’t comfortable showing it.”

There were times Zack wondered what Strife was thinking, what he’d gone through, how he ended up the way he was. He knew Strife had a rough childhood, and that had a hand in dictating his personality. The loneliness Strife showed made it hard for Zack to leave him alone. It mirrored Sephiroth’s in many ways.

“Did he make it into SOLDIER?”

Zack turned his gaze away from the sky. “Yeah. He made it to Second Class. He could’ve made it to First, but...”

Cloud looked up. “But...?”

“Strife’s hometown was destroyed, too. Just like yours. I still don’t know all the details, but something happened to him there at Nibelheim. He snapped and defected.” Zack shook his head. “Sephiroth could tell you more. He was the first on the scene when it happened.”

He saw Cloud grimace; he could only assume it was at the mention of Sephiroth’s name. “He’s not all that bad.”

“...Maybe.”

Zack studied him for a bit before shifting to better face Cloud. A well aimed toss landed his wrapper in the public trashcan over his shoulder, freeing up both of Zack’s hands so he could clap them together. “Okay! We gotta fix that.”

Cloud hid his face in his sandwich.

“Ask me about him.”

“About Sephiroth?”

“Yeah. Anything you want to know, ask me. The Sephiroth you know is your enemy because he tried to destroy the world, but the Sephiroth _here_ did the opposite. Same goes for you, right? Here, Strife was our enemy, but that doesn’t mean _you_ are.”

“Yeah...”

Cloud sounded uncertain. Zack was going to change that.

“Did you ever get to know Sephiroth in your world?”

“Not really. Sephiroth didn’t spend much time with those who didn’t make the program.” Cloud’s brows furrowed. “I don't think he spent much time with anyone. Maybe you.”

“A loner, huh? Sounds about right. But Sephiroth never did it because he disliked people. Don’t tell him I said this, but I figure he was shy.” That got Cloud to lift his head. “There’s no one like him, so I guess it gets kinda lonely. He had a couple friends, but that’s about it.”

“Sephiroth had friends?”

Cloud sounded skeptical, but Zack found victory in that. He was asking about Sephiroth. Nodding, Zack held up two fingers. “Genesis and Angeal. From what I know, the three of them were buddies. Stuff happened, though, and they died.”

Zack did his best to bury the sadness that emerged with the topic. Angeal was his mentor. It pained him when the man had died.

“What happened?”

“Well...” He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s kinda complicated. I guess it all boils down to Shinra's Science Research Department making a mess of things.”

Cloud’s expression twisted into disgust. “That’s familiar.”

Zack wasn’t surprised. If they were parallel worlds, then Hojo, Hollander, and the whole Science Research Department had a heavy hand in disrupting the balance of natural life. Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis had been dealt a bad hand thanks to the Science Research Department.

“In my world... Hojo was responsible for creating Sephiroth.” Cloud turned his head.

Zack leaned to see what he was looking at and realized he was staring at the apex of the cannon where Reeve’s office was. Sephiroth was probably still there with Reeve.

“He was also the head scientist overlooking the Jenova project. In Nibelheim, the Science Research Department held Jenova at the base of the mako reactor. Hojo was creating monsters there.”

Zack remembered seeing something similar when he made it to Nibelheim after Strife had burned his hometown down. He, Sephiroth, Hojo and the Science Research Department, and even the Turks were there to see what was really going on in the reactor.

They had been sworn to secrecy about it, kept mum over several years by President Shinra’s orders. It never did settle well with Zack they had to keep this quiet, but if he wanted to remain in SOLDIER and stay alive, he had to sit on his hands and nod his head in compliance.

“Same here. Hojo was pretty notorious for conducting unethical experiments.” Zack shifted his gaze to Cloud. “About Sephiroth... When did it start? For us, it took about three years before Strife made a move.”

Cloud looked at him again before turning his gaze to the harbor below. “...It wasn’t long after I made it to Midgar that he showed up again. I was with AVALANCHE already. We were captured by Shinra and imprisoned. Sometime during the night, our cells were opened and blood was everywhere. We followed it up to the President’s office and found him speared by the Masamune. From there, we left Midgar and traveled the world looking for him.”

Zack looked down at the harbor. The old President was cut down by Strife, too, though probably not as cleanly as Cloud’s Sephiroth did it. If there was any resemblance in style or mannerisms, Zack could assume the Sephiroth of Cloud’s world was neat and efficient in his killing. Strife didn’t quite have that finesse.

“Sephiroth and I were still part of SOLDIER when Strife came back to Midgar. We caught glimpses of him--” In places that he and Sephiroth found significant; places where Strife and Sephiroth made memories. “--until he finally showed up in the President’s office and killed him. Speared him, too.”

“With the Buster Sword?”

Zack shook his head. He still had the Buster Sword, passed down from Angeal. “Strife didn’t have his own sword. He was supposed to get one when he was promoted to First, but you heard how that went.”

Cloud nodded.

“But Strife was good at using different types of swords. He leaned toward the heavier blades, though he didn’t use something like the Buster Sword.” Zack held his hands parallel to each other, guesstimating the width of the largest sword Strife ever used. “It’s not quite as big, but it’s bigger than the standard issue.”

It was with a standard issue sword Strife used to kill the ex-President. It was almost a mockery.

“You use something like the Buster Sword,” he noted.

“It’s similar to what I had before.” Cloud crumpled the wrapper of his sandwich, his hand curled around it tightly. “...I used to fight with the Buster Sword. You gave it to me when you died.”

Zack couldn’t help but think of Angeal and how he had given him the sword just before he died. He was a little surprised to hear he did the same thing to Cloud. He was a little curious about what made Cloud change over to the sword he had now, but he didn’t want to make Cloud more uncomfortable than he was. This was a sensitive subject.

Scrubbing his fingers through the back of his hair, Zack put on a smile. “Your sword’s pretty awesome. I saw it came apart into two. Does it do more?”

Cloud nodded and tossed the wrapper away, his hand flexing before he managed to settle it in his lap. “It’s six different swords. They come together into what you saw.”

Zack grinned. “Hey, can I look at it later? I have it back at the _Highwind_.”

Cloud gave him a befuddled look before offering a small shrug. “If it’s allowed...”

“What, by Sephiroth?” Zack patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I can work with that.” He nudged Cloud up from the bench. “Let’s head back.”

“...Okay.” Cloud climbed to his feet and looked up toward Reeve’s office before following Zack’s lead.


	10. Chapter 9

Cloud walked with Zack down a relatively empty street. Though the civilians were starting to come back, most of them were probably still in hiding. Seeing them and the state of the harbor made him feel guilty even though this wasn’t his fault. 

_ It was. _

He spotted a few men on the lower tier hauling some of the dead monsters into the back of a truck, likely to be disposed of in a discrete area. The slices that dismembered the monsters were clean, as if someone had taken a ruler and drawn along its edge. Cloud had a feeling he knew whose work this was: Sephiroth. Who else could be so precise?

He glanced at Zack who was also watching the workers. Zack was also clean in his attacks, though Cloud couldn’t remember if they were on par with Sephiroth’s. The Buster Sword was completely different from something as slender and refined as the Masamune. 

“That’s gotta be Sephiroth’s work.” Zack looked at him. “I bet you can tell, too, huh?”

Cloud looked at the crew again. “Yeah. He has a certain method of fighting.” 

He’d learned to anticipate each strike, familiar with the advantages and disadvantages of Sephiroth’s sword. But anticipation didn’t equate matching speed or skill. He remembered how he had pushed himself to keep up with Sephiroth’s speed. The chase in the ruins of old Midgar had his heart racing like mad, his eyes always searching for Sephiroth.

**_Always_ ** _ , his eyes were searching for Sephiroth. _

“Yeah, he does.” Zack chuckled and looked at him. “Do you use all six swords in a fight?”

“Not unless I have to.” Sephiroth was the only one who made him use all swords at once. Cloud generally got by with just one sword, maybe two if he needed to. “First Tsurugi’s basic form is enough.”

“First Tsurugi, huh?” Zack’s tone was thoughtful. “You’ll let me take it apart, right?”

It wasn’t something he thought about on a conscious level, but First Tsurugi had only ever touched his hands. Having someone else handle his sword was like touching a part of who he was. 

Zack would be able to look into the core of who he was, a skeletal frame with nothing special within, made whole only when all his jagged pieces were pressed together. Cloud was a bit apprehensive about being laid bare before someone else, even if it was just his sword. Zack was the one who asked, though, and he had a hard time saying no to Zack.

Cloud nodded.

* * *

Reeve followed the small dot as it weaved its way along a stenciled map of the harbor. He had sent Cait Sith after Zack and Strife to monitor them while the rest of the team remained on the premises. It looked like the pair were making their way back, though Zack was taking the scenic route.

Sephiroth remained in the room with him, head bowed over a screen of his own. They were feeding the information they had gathered to Midgar. While Sephiroth was contacting the others of AVALANCHE, Reeve was delivering his information to Shinra.

Much of Shinra Company was under heavy reformation, but those left were playing a careful game of restoring the balance. Many had their doubts about the company, but there were few other sources that could support such a large task. If Shinra Company had any hope of surviving, it had to adapt.

Now, more than ever, they needed their cooperation. With Strife --  _ Cloud _ \-- in their midst, everyone had to be on the same page. That included letting Rufus and the Turks know what was going on.

Reeve hoped they could work together in this. Rufus had a stubborn streak and cold grip on what he perceived was his, but under the right motivation, he was a strong ally. He was a man who hated showing weakness, much like certain key members of AVALANCHE’s ragtag group.

It was still clear in his memory when Rufus had turned up alive after the assault on Shinra Building. They made it in time to save Rufus’ life, but not without some casualty. One of Rufus’ legs received enough damage he had to use a cane when he walked.

Rufus, proud as he was, pretended it wasn’t a burden but an accessory to his image. How he managed to pull it off Reeve didn’t know, but he could respect the younger man for that.

Now they just had to find a means of working with Rufus on getting to the bottom of this madness. While damaged, much of Shinra Building was left intact. Parts of Midgar couldn’t say the same, but at least the casualties weren’t as severe as they could’ve been if they hadn’t acted as swiftly as they had. It was a constant race against time back then. Their lives were on a short countdown, faced with a threat they weren't certain they could defeat.

This situation felt just the same. Cloud was supposedly going to fight with them, but it wasn’t clear if that was beneficial or a hinderance. He was obviously fighting a battle they had no control over, and if this was a battle of endurance and will, it was uncertain if he would win. 

Reeve was alarmed when Sephiroth suddenly grabbed Cloud. He hadn’t expected Cloud’s eyes to turn green, and the sight of them was unnerving. The image likened to Strife’s eyes, how they had the same green tint and narrow pupils. In that instant, Reeve saw their enemy, and it was hard to shake the image off despite Cloud’s eyes changing back to blue.

This was a war they would be facing on two fronts: whatever Jenova attacked them with directly, and Cloud. Cloud might be innocent of Strife’s crimes, but it was already made clear Jenova was inside him, and if Jenova managed to win over Cloud, then they would be facing yet another apocalyptic event. 

Reeve dreaded the possibility. 

They couldn’t do anything about Jenova’s external approach right now, but they did have Cloud with them. At least they could work to solve the issue there. Sephiroth played a vital role in keeping Cloud in check. 

_ Zack, too. _

Reeve slid his finger across the screen and switched windows. He saw through Cait Sith’s eyes Zack and Cloud were talking. With the audio muted, Reeve could only watch the display of emotions and gestures made between them. Whatever they were talking about drew out a small, hesitant, but definite smile from Cloud. 

Reeve had to smile a little himself. Zack had that charm to him that drew others in. It was hard to get mad at him -- or stay mad at him even when it finally happened. From the looks of things, Zack was sure to twist their unexpected guest around his finger.

Feeling eyes on him, Reeve glanced up and saw Sephiroth looking in his direction. It wasn’t exactly  _ him _ the man was focusing on, but the screen before him. That unreadable expression was ever present on his face, making Reeve wonder just how hard it was for Sephiroth stomach this. No doubt the old General would rather kill Cloud than tolerate his presence.

Reeve switched to the report he was dictating. It would go straight to Tseng, who would pass it on to Rufus. Tseng was another unfortunate casualty in the attack on Shinra Building. He suffered scars on his face -- a feature that reminded Reeve of the previous leader of the Turks -- and damage to the right side of his body when he protected Rufus. The man had been incarcerated for months, but once he was on his feet, he, like Rufus, didn’t let his handicap stop him from carrying out his duties.

_ Really, the Turks were something else. _

“They’ll want to meet him, but taking him to Midgar will bring monsters to the city...”

“It’s better than staying here. We didn’t expect there to be an invasion on the harbor, and Junon isn’t properly equipped to guarantee the people will remain safe if it happens again.”

Reeve tapped the screen to send off his report. “At least it was better than the  _ Highwind _ ; you have no means of defense there. It’s fortunate the attack had been on a small scale. Do you think this is Jenova testing us?”

He lifted his head. Sephiroth’s gaze was on the windows, a slight frown evident between his brows.

Reeve frowned as well. He didn’t want to think of it this way, but if this was just a tease, then what was the real assault going to be like? What did Jenova have waiting for them? For Cloud?

“If Cloud...” Reeve broke off and thought better of continuing his current train of thought. “Zack and Cloud are on their way back. If Zack doesn’t take any detours, they should be back in a few minutes.”

“Good. We’ll leave when everyone’s gathered.”

“Of course.”

* * *

Tseng stood a polite distance behind the President, retaining a centered stance that belied his injury as he waited for the other man to respond. He’d just received Reeve’s report and handed it to Rufus. He was patient as Rufus digested the information, using that time to do the same.

The mountains had hidden the beacon of light that heralded Strife’s arrival yesterday. To hear that the son of the Calamity was walking the planet’s surface was staggering news. Not only that, Reeve attested Strife was innocent of the massacres. He’d sent with the report a video recording of Strife’s talk with Red and Cait Sith, as well as what they had learned of him during the conversation in Reeve’s office, as evidence of the differing personas. Tseng didn’t know what to make of it, but he had his skepticisms. 

“This is interesting.”

Tseng pulled himself out of his thoughts at Rufus’ musing. “Sir?”

“Cloud Strife among the living, and not only that, he’s foreign to this world. Don’t you think that’s interesting?”

“I find it concerning. Even if Strife is a stranger, we should be cautious of this turn of events. An attack on Junon happened because of him.”

“It’s inevitable. Whether he’s Jenova's offspring or not doesn’t matter. If their theory holds, Jenova will come. She wouldn’t snub a chance like this.”

“Shouldn’t we eliminate him? Regardless Aerith’s testament, he’s going to cause destruction.”

Rufus looked at him over his shoulder, lips turned into a smile. Genial as it appeared, Tseng knew the cunning in its shadow. “This is an opportunity for us to see the evolution of the planet. I admit our actions aided in its deterioration, but with Strife’s advent, it could turn around. The world will commit to a new course. We should help it along.”

Tseng knew it wasn’t solely for the planet’s sake the President would offer his assistance. Rufus always had layers to his plans, and while Tseng didn’t know all of them, he could take a fair guess and surmise the young man found this situation entertaining. Rufus would doubtlessly play his part as benefactor, but for his own personal reasons.

That slyness made Rufus a unique and dangerous employer, certainly a far cry from his father. The former President was very bullheaded, more keen on plowing his way through obstacles and flashing money where need be. Rufus found crafty ways around the obstacles and when he couldn’t obtain what he wanted on his own, he utilized his pawns to their utmost.

“Yes, sir.”

Rufus turned back around, facing the windows. Tseng took his leave and headed back to the Turks’ headquarters, sliding his keycard to pass through one of the various security mechanisms that assured no unwanted company could gain access to Shinra Company’s secrets. There waited a few of his faithful subordinates, their attention turning from the main monitors to him as he entered.

“Boss?”

Tseng glanced at the monitors and saw the feed from Reeve’s report looping. He faced the other Turks: Reno, Rude, Elena, Shotgun, and Cissnei. The others had been spread out to other parts of the world, leaving them six at Midgar and its surrounding territory to keep everything secure. They had lost a great deal of their team over the years, some even falling victim to the chaos of Strife and Meteor. It had hurt them greatly to know a few of their members had been corrupted by Jenova, and the civil unrest put a strain on everyone.

Tseng controlled what he could, and constantly suffered from the guilt of being unable to save everyone on his team. He knew the others didn’t fault him for what happened, but as their leader, it was still his responsibility to assure they made it out okay.

“The President wants us to help the General and his guest when they arrive.”

Reno straightened up. “Whoa, whoa, we’re talking about  _ Strife _ here.”

“I know, but that’s what he wants. We’re to support Sephiroth and the others as they fight the threat on the planet.”

“You mean Strife.” Shotgun’s brows rose, her hand on her hip.

Tseng shook his head. “No. Jenova. The attack on Junon will likely recur here. We don’t know on what scale, so we are to secure the city. This is to remain as contained as possible. No infantrymen or SOLDIERs. The less the people know, the better.”

“It would cause widespread panic if they figured out Strife was alive, same or not,” Cissnei murmured.

“Yes. We’ll need to stay alert until we learn more. Spread out and keep your eyes open for any threat. Radio in if anything happens. I’ll be with the President when they arrive.”

There was a chorus of affirmatives, the team leaving to split up and cover as much ground as they could of what remained of the broken metropolis. Rude was the last to go, stopping next to Tseng. When Tseng looked at him, Rude nodded at the screen.

“The others of their team. Tifa Lockhart and Barret Wallace. Do they know?”

“Most likely, but that isn’t our concern.” Tseng studied the other man. He knew the question before it was asked. Rude had a bad habit of being interested in the wrong women; he had taken a liking to Tifa. “...I understand, but what happens between them is their affair. Keep your emotions under control.”

Rude nodded and left. Tseng waited for the doors to close and the locks to tumble into place before looking at the monitors one more time. He still recalled those days when their only concerns were rebels and a petty war. The escalation toward global disaster threw everyone off kilter. He didn’t think anyone had regained that balance yet.

_ Would Strife’s return help or hinder that process? _

* * *

Cloud sat with Zack at the benches, the interconnected blades of his sword scattered around them. Upon returning to the  _ Highwind _ , Zack took him aside so they could look at First Tsurugi. It was a little nerve-racking, but he let Zack take it apart.

Zack had done so with care, laying out the different swords after studying them. The knot in Cloud’s stomach slowly unraveled as he watched. Zack didn’t make too many comments on them, just quietly admired each piece before setting it aside. 

There were times when he saw intrigue light up Zack’s eyes and he would take an extra minute to marvel at the sword. He reminded Cloud of when he’d first crossed upon First Tsurugi. He had marveled at it, too. 

When he’d finally retired the Buster Sword and turned it into a monument, Cloud felt naked without a weapon. He felt himself stripped bare, left with just the core of himself. He had laid to rest Zack’s overlapping personality along with his sword, so it was time to find  _ him _ . Find something that was solely his, that spoke of who he was, and made him whole. 

That was First Tsurugi.  _ His _ sword.

Cloud’s eyes traced the deadly curve of the blade in Zack’s lap. They were like secrets only he knew and understood, visible only when he was made to show them. He remembered the fight with Sephiroth when all six blades had separated. They’d unfurled like a flower, each sharp petal like a part of who he was. All the insecurities, the doubts, the imperfections -- they came together as one when at last he’d brought down the final strike. Then, just as they’d fitted into a single piece, they separated, piercing the roof around him.

In retrospect, he supposed that was who he was. A man whose life had fallen apart over years of turmoil, and came together when he'd finally found peace with himself and his shortcomings.

_ Was this the part where he fell apart again? In this foreign land? _

Reaching out, Cloud lightly slid his fingers along the handle of one of the blades. He still didn’t know what metals his sword was made from, but they had incredible durability, perfect balance, and just enough weight to settle comfortably in his hands.

“Where did you learn to use large swords? Me?”

Cloud pulled his hand back. “No, you never taught me any sword fighting, but for a while you had a lot of influence on my technique. As I traveled, I developed my own style.”

Zack turned the sword over in his hand, pointing the tip up toward the ceiling. “I never thought of dual wielding before.” He grinned. “Show me sometime.”

Cloud looked at the main blade of his sword. “Sephiroth wouldn’t like that.”

Zack grimaced and lowered the sword to rest across his lap. “Well...”

“Can we expect you to fight against Jenova?”

Cloud whipped around at Sephiroth voice. The room was without doors, offering no signal to warn someone was coming. He straightened his spine, conscious of the difference in positions as he remained seated while Sephiroth towered over him.

“Yes.”

He held Sephiroth’s gaze. He would fight to his dying breath against Jenova. He’d done it before, he would do it again. The same went for Sephiroth.

“You can have your sword if you help us, but if you betray us, I will cut you down.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t.”

They locked stares, a silent challenge and promise passing between them. Cloud knew Sephiroth would hold true to his words, just as Cloud would hold to his. Though it discomforted him to fight alongside Sephiroth, he would bend for the sake of Gaia. He couldn’t hope to get anywhere if he didn’t reach common ground with the man.

“Zack.”

“Yeah?”

“Undo the spell and give him his sword. We’ll be landing in Midgar shortly. If Jenova is after you, then we’ll be facing more monsters.” Sephiroth’s expression matched Cloud’s. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Cloud didn’t respond. 

A sudden slap on his shoulder jarred him; he looked at Zack in surprise. The man was grinning at him. “This is great! I can’t wait for you to fight with us, Cloud. This is how it’s supposed to be. All of us together. You two on the same side.”

Doubt ran through Cloud, but he didn’t argue. Zack was happy. He’d make an effort for him as well and tread this dangerous path with Sephiroth.


	11. Chapter 10

Vincent was balanced precariously on a ledge, watching the three men make their way through the forest. Death trailed after them, the corpses of monsters littering the ground like discarded toys. The men reminded him of undisciplined children rather than adults. They were a lost lot, devoid of any guidance on what was right or wrong. Still, he had no idea what their intention was beyond this mayhem.

_Was there a need to have an intention that exceeded pure destruction for those who didn’t know any better?_

His eyes narrowed slightly as the largest of the three carelessly tossed a monster aside. These three had no care for their surroundings. Taking in the ruined landscape, it was clear they didn’t bother to exercise restraint. They had yet to draw near the villages, but Vincent knew they would slaughter the people there.

That heartless way of fighting reminded him of the fight three years ago. Strife didn’t express any care for the lives of others. He eliminated all who stood in his path.

Pausing in thought, Vincent studied the men’s appearances. He had noted their pale blond hair and green eyes, but hadn’t made the immediate connection. Though they looked different from each other, these two common features were reminiscent of Jenova’s son.

Vincent was set on edge. He couldn’t allow the three men to make it to any of the villages.

He couldn’t jump straight into battle, however. He would be fighting against three simultaneously, without proper evaluation on what they were truly capable of.

Mentally cursing, he kept himself hidden. Sephiroth and the others would need to know of this.

* * *

Rufus lifted his head at the knock on his office’s doors. He’d invited Sephiroth and his merry band to his office to properly greet them. Likewise, he was rather curious to see _Cloud_ in person. A simple feed from Reeve’s pet didn’t match up to the real thing.

Rufus set down his pen as the doors were opened. His gaze passed over his guests, passively noting he had a small audience of two: Sephiroth and Cloud. Apparently the others didn’t want to meet him.

_Fine by him._

Looking at Cloud was like seeing a haunting ghost, reminding of old evils. The image of a younger man sporting the blood of his victims superimposed itself on the man standing across on the other side of his desk.

_“His name is Cloud Strife. I’m nominating him for First Class.”_

Those were the words Sephiroth said years ago. They had come as a surprise when he first heard it. Sephiroth’s opinion always garnered attention, especially since he rarely gave it. As their most prized fighter in the global ring, to nominate a fellow SOLDIER was worth some consideration. Who could say no to the possibility of gaining another valuable asset?

However, it had slipped Rufus’ mind with the incident of Nibelheim, as well as AVALANCHE’s increased activity. The rebel group had been under a different leader then, some girl who was easy to manipulate with the assistance of her overly trusted subordinates. Truly, it was a game, and Rufus couldn’t be bothered with remembering every little thing as he worked to secure the loyalty of the other cabinet members of his father's company, as well as its faithful watchdogs, the Turks.

The turnabout was fruitful, and even now, he held in his palm a considerable amount of power that his father couldn’t have hoped to retain even if he had survived.

_What a pathetic way to go. Like a pig on a stick._

Rufus had been ambivalent when he learned of the previous President’s death. He supposed he should’ve grieved more, but his father was an obstacle to his succession, and the path had finally been freed on account of the would-be First Class SOLDIER cutting him down.

The satisfaction and glee must have been high when Strife committed the deed. Rufus didn’t know, and he hadn’t cared enough to ask, but the question teased the far corner of his mind now that he was facing this copy.

_No, not a copy._

He saw the difference in age, the worn garb of an old warrior, the lingering flame of conviction -- all signs of a veteran that Strife never showed. Strife still had the air of a boy. If he had to say, Rufus would liken Cloud to Sephiroth.

It was intriguing to see the two of them standing by each other, each armed. He didn't think Sephiroth would let Cloud be in possession of a weapon, but he didn't know every little thought the General had running through his head. So long as Cloud didn’t raise hell on his company or try to kill him, he wasn’t going to dwell on it.

Entertaining a smile, he shifted his attention on Sephiroth. “I read the report on Junon. It’s fortunate the harbor survived the attack. Reeve has warned me there might be a reoccurrence here, so I’ve dispersed a defense as a precaution.”

“Good. A set of fighters should remain here as well.”

“Because of internal or external threats?” He glanced at Cloud.

“External,” Cloud was quick to respond, his voice clipped.

The verbal bite earned a slight lift of Rufus’ brow. The lack of reverence was unexpected. Apparently his counterpart wasn’t a fond acquaintance of Cloud. It was a pity, but Rufus supposed he couldn’t have everything handed to him.

“Jenova the Calamity. Over two thousand years of being a thorn in our side, and still she won’t go away.”

“You and your company brought her out when you should’ve left her sealed.”

Rufus shrugged and turned his chair, looking at the scenery beyond them. His office overlooked a great portion of Midgar. Pieces of the city had been demolished while the rest stood on fragile stilts. The reconstruction was a long, arduous project. They had to cordon off sections that radiated unfiltered mako. Those unable to withstand the high concentration easily grew ill, some even mutating as their cells rejected the substance. It was difficult to get anything done when the workers kept being hospitalized.

“Perhaps. We were unknowledgeable that the salvation we sought wasn’t in her blood. However, our research helped the people live fruitful lives. It just happened to be at a _regrettably_ high price.”

“You almost destroyed the world.”

He turned back around. “Wouldn't that be you? The _other_ you.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed.

Rufus pushed out of his chair, fingers curling over the crown of his cane as he came around the other side of his desk. The sound of the cane clicking against tiled floor accented his approach until he stood before Cloud. It amused him how different this man was from the young Second Class SOLDIER he was familiar with.

_He preferred Cloud instead of Strife._

He smiled. “You’ll be fighting for us just as, I’ve heard, you did in your reality. I hope you’ll indulge me with a story of your victories.”

“It's late,” Sephiroth interjected.

Rufus’s eyes slid to him. “Ah, yes, you’re right. Maybe another time, then.” He returned his attention back to Cloud. “Rooms have been made available if you’d like to use them. You’ll have to excuse me if I limit your access; there are parts of the building that are still unsafe.”

He watched as they left, finally acknowledging Tseng who had been lingering in the background. The Turks leader approached, stopping before him. Rufus nodded at the doors of his office. “As I said, _interesting_.”

Tseng followed his line of sight. “Should I set guards?”

“No. We’ll leave Sephiroth to take care of that.” He gave Tseng an expectant look. “Well?”

“There hasn’t been any further attack on Junon since the General left, and nothing has happened here since their arrival, but it's too early to say we're safe.”

“And the rest?” The Turks’ network was spread across the continent.

Tseng shook his head. “Nothing. The other cities haven’t been attacked either.”

Rufus made a soft, thoughtful sound. “Let’s hope nothing happens through the night. Rest, Tseng. I’ll need you later.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Being with Rufus never settled well with Cloud. The last time he spoke with him was in his own world, and even though they fought on the same side, Rufus still demonstrated he had his own objectives that deviated from saving the planet. They both had wanted to defeat Kadaj, but Cloud wouldn’t go so far as to call him an ally.

_He was too selfish._

Turning away from Rufus’ office, Cloud found himself caught by Sephiroth's stare. It was arresting how Sephiroth always looked at him, even if he was regarded with contempt and suspicion. Sephiroth had always commanded attention back in Cloud’s world. All those of lower rank than him raised him on a pedestal, even strangers who knew him only by name.

Cloud called to mind his own emotions when he’d first heard of the man. He was just a child, brash and inspired by someone who was powerful and respected. Sephiroth was every boy’s idol, his every dream. Cloud wanted to be like him. He wanted to be that hero. The end of the war took that chance away, but he still aspired to become _someone_ worth recognition.

In a way, Sephiroth was part of his **‘** everything, **’** and when he burned down his home, Cloud’s respect and adoration for the man died.

Cloud questioned why his counterpart had taken Sephiroth’s role in this world. Who exactly was he? Why did he defect? And what of Sephiroth and his involvement? Did he join AVALANCHE as Cloud had? Was he their leader?

There was too much to think about and not enough sleep to go on. Zack had said it was over a day that he’d been in this world, and now it was creeping up on two.

_When was the last time he rested?_

He was too exhausted to count the number of days that had passed since the day he knew what a proper night’s sleep and respite was like. Pulling his gaze away, Cloud headed for Zack who was waiting for him. Before he and Sephiroth had gone into Rufus’ office, Zack had jumped at the chance to room together for the night.

No one got a word in otherwise, and Sephiroth didn’t voice any objection. With the decision made, the rest of the group scattered.

Cloud was grateful for Zack’s offer. This building held many memories for him: his teenage years as an infantryman, meeting Zack and Sephiroth, infiltrating with AVALANCHE to save Aerith, meeting Red, seeing Jenova’s disfigured body in the Science Research Department’s main laboratory, and being haunted by Sephiroth’s ghost...

There was a mix of good and bad memories, but the bad ones heavily outweighed the good.

It calmed Cloud’s nerves a little to be near Zack. He didn’t want to be alone in this place. He didn’t want to spend time isolated in a tiny room by himself anymore.

Zack raised a hand and gestured for Cloud to join him. “We don’t really use them anymore, but Sephiroth and I still have living quarters here. Ever since we started traveling, we grew accustomed to sleeping at inns or in the _Highwind._ Coming back to Shinra was always a bit awkward, especially for the others. They always refuse Rufus’ invitation.”

Cloud knew the feeling. “I would, too.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame them. Shinra’s done a lot to warrant their hate, so they go to the Sectors or Edge instead.”

Cloud’s mouth twitched into a small frown. The mention of Edge brought Tifa, Marlene, and Denzel to mind. Thinking of them, of leaving them behind, jabbed at his heart.

_Could he go back to them? Were they safe?_

“Tifa...” he started out uncertainly, “is she part of your group?”

Zack nodded. “Yeah. She mostly stays at Edge these days, but she was with us when we fought Strife.”

“What is she doing now?”

Zack tilted his head to look at him out of the corner of his eye. “She runs 7th Heaven and takes care of Marlene.”

_Just Marlene?_

The image of Denzel’s pale face was still crystal clear in Cloud’s mind. The boy had been introverted. It had taken a while for him to open up, still shaken by losing his family. Cloud saw a bit of himself in the boy, and the curse of the Geostigma wrecking his body drove Cloud to search for a cure.

He still didn’t know what had become of his world, of his comrades and family. They weren’t related by blood or marriage, but he, Tifa, and Denzel had a strong bond. Marlene had a strong impact on their family as well, her presence greatly influencing Denzel’s decision to open his heart to them.

“Is there a boy named Denzel with them?”

Zack shook his head.

Denzel wasn’t with Tifa. That could mean anything. Maybe Denzel’s family had survived and he was with them; maybe they had died and Denzel was still wandering the ruins of Midgar on his own; maybe he didn’t exist in the first place; or maybe he was _dead_...

Cloud’s heart sank.

“Is he important? Denzel, I mean.” Zack looked at him curiously.

Cloud responded by shifting his gaze away. “He was a boy we took in. He lost his family when Midgar was destroyed. I found him by Aerith’s church.”

“We?”

“...Tifa and me. She insisted we look after him, and gave him a room with Marlene above the bar.” Across from their room was his room, and next to it was Tifa’s. That was their home.

_Until he left._

“Tifa takes care of Marlene when Barret’s away. They live above 7th Heaven.” Zack raked a hand through his hair and groaned. “About Tifa... You probably saw this coming, but she won’t like you.”

“I did...” The likelihood Tifa would accept him from the get-go was nil. She would be one more person who would turn their back on him. Barret and Vincent, wherever they were, would likely be the same.

Zack placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “We’ll work on it. Everyone will come around, you’ll see.” He smiled warmly. “But that’s for later. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. How about we call it a night?”

Cloud nodded. He let Zack wave him into his quarters. It was a rare privilege to enter a First’s living space. Seconds and Thirds didn’t have the same luxuries as Firsts, and those who weren’t in SOLDIER were stuck in barracks. Cloud had slept in a bunker bed along with other boys and young men who had traveled to Midgar to become part of Shinra’s army.

Thinking back on it, Cloud had felt a little awkward when he was given his own room and bed. Camping out and the occasional inn had become the norm over the years; the idea of having a place to call his own had boggled his mind.

_He didn’t even stay there that long._

He ended up at the church with a sleeping bag and basic camping supplies. It was lonely sometimes without the sounds of Marlene and Denzel wandering up and down the steps, or the chatter drifting up from the bar below.

But he didn’t return.

_Maybe he couldn’t return at all..._

Cloud wordlessly took in Zack’s home. Even though Zack said he didn’t use it much, there were still homey touches that made it more than just a place to sleep at night. Picture frames stood on a shelf; oil and rag for sword cleaning was on the table; even a bundle of flowers was hanging upside down on the far wall. Cloud recognized them as the kind Aerith grew.

Following Zack to the spare bedroom, Cloud stood just outside it. That awkwardness came back as he stared at the bed. This was someone’s home. Not an inn, not camping out in the church or wilderness, a _home_.

_“Cloud, is that you?”_

_“Cloud’s back? Cloud!”_

A hand clapped his shoulder. “All yours! Just call if you need anything. Goodnight, Cloud!”

Cloud hid a flinch. “Goodnight...”

He waited until Zack left before finally entering the room and closing the door behind him. He unstrapped his sword and leaned it against the wall by the bed. Unbuckling the straps of his gear came next, his hands going through the motions automatically.

For the most part he remained clothed, too uncomfortable with stripping down completely despite being in Zack’s company. Sitting on the bed’s edge, it hardly felt like anyone had slept on it, the mattress not yet softened by constant use. Still, compared to the hard floorboards of the church, the bed was too luxurious.

Inwardly sighing at himself, Cloud slipped out of his boots and set them aside. He tugged at his gloves, suddenly reminded of the gash across the left palm. Carefully removing the glove, he stared at his hand, turning it over. He still didn’t understand the ring’s significance, but he had to admit its simple elegance was appealing.

Placing his gloves on the nightstand, Cloud stretched out on the sheets. The heaviness of fatigue was already dragging him to sleep, and his eyes slowly closed. The light pressure on his fourth finger lingered in the corner of his mind.

_Didn’t the fourth finger signify marriage...?_


	12. Chapter 11

“Good morning.”

Tifa turned her head toward the staircase. Aerith was coming down from the second floor where the bedrooms were. Tifa had offered to let her stay the night, and Aerith accepted. She was glad. After last night, Tifa didn’t know how well she would’ve handled the news alone.

Aerith had come after parting ways with Zack to meet her. Tifa had received news about Strife yesterday afternoon. Sephiroth had called her and caught her up to speed with what was going on, and that he and the others would be coming to Midgar.

Any other day, Tifa would have been happy to have everyone visiting. The mention of Strife, however, soured her mood. She couldn't believe he was back again. Supposedly he wasn't even the same person, but she couldn't accept that. She had lost too much to just brush off the pain and start over.

Strife destroyed Nibelheim, killing everyone, including her parents and friends. He almost killed her, too, when she had chased after him to the mako reactor. If it wasn’t for Sephiroth, she wouldn’t be here right now.

That nightmare had haunted her for months. She had a hard time coping with the fact her life had fallen apart over a single night. Her teacher had taken her in and helped her get back on her feet, but the wound was still deep. She couldn’t snuff the sadness and anger that welled with the destruction of Nibelheim.

These past three years should’ve allowed her to properly heal from the pain, but Strife was back. It was as if he had cut her open again, reminding her of the years she had spent in emotional turmoil.

She couldn’t accept him being here in Midgar. This was her new home, and she didn’t want it to be taken away from her.

Tifa forced a smile and placed down a glass of water on the bar as invitation. “Good morning. What did you want for breakfast?”

Aerith climbed onto the stool on the other side of the bar. She smiled softly. “Anything you choose is fine.” She studied Tifa’s face. “...Tifa, did you sleep?”

“Not really.” Tifa’s lips pursed. “ _He’s_ here. After everything that’s happened, why is _he_ here?”

“He’s not the same person.”

“How can you be so sure?” Her brows knit.

Aerith folded her hands. “Gaia is the one who says he is different. Also, I can feel it. He shares the same loathing as we have for Jenova, and will help us fight her.”

Tifa’s hand curled around the lip of the sink before her. Her emotions were gathered into a heavy storm, clouding her mind and heart. “Isn’t it his fault she’s back?”

“I think Jenova has been with us before he came.” Aerith lowered her eyes to the bar. “We failed to get rid of her. I failed.”

Tifa looked up. “What? It’s not your fault.”

Aerith met her gaze. “Holy is meant to counter Meteor, and I was the one who held the materia. Isn’t it also my fault the planet was injured?”

“No, it was Strife’s fault. Everything is his fault.”

“So we’re all innocent?” Aerith held eye contact. “You, me, Zack, Sephiroth, and everyone else? All of us are free of bloodshed?”

Tifa was silent. She wasn’t faultless. She had joined a terrorist group. Some of the things they did resulted in people dying. She had killed people, whether out of intent or accident. She wasn’t clean.

_None of them were._

“Still...”

“History isn’t created by just one person. Many people create the path that decides the world’s destiny.” Aerith reached across to lightly touch her arm. “Strife played a major part in determining that destiny, but we, too, played a part. You, me, AVALANCHE, Shinra, Hojo, the people of Nibelheim...”

Tifa looked away. Strife had always been ostracized. The adults shunned him and his mother, and the kids didn’t play with him either. Tifa, caught in the tide, didn’t reach out to him. Somewhere deep down, she knew it was wrong to treat someone like dirt, but everyone insisted it was bad to associate with the Strifes.

She could feel the relief of everyone in town when Strife left for Midgar. It was like they had finally washed themselves clean of some nasty stain. Strife’s mother remained, but Strife himself was gone. No one thought they would see him again.

_But they did._

He came back to Nibelheim as part of SOLDIER. The air was thick with tension when he arrived. The people were open about their revulsion to his return, even if it was just to visit the mako reactor in the mountains. Unless he addressed them first, no one bothered to talk to him directly. She hadn’t made any effort to connect with him, either.

Maybe she should’ve, but Strife didn’t make himself approachable. And when he locked himself in Shinra Mansion...

_That was the end of everything._

“He was part of Shinra. His mother--” Tifa bit her lip. She didn’t pull away when Aerith held her hand. The other woman tended to be her confidant, listening whenever she had something troubling on her mind.

“Do her actions mean it’s _his_ fault?”

Reluctantly, Tifa shook her head. “...I can’t forgive him.”

Aerith offered a soft smile. “I’m not asking you to. No one can forgive Strife for what he did. However, Cloud isn’t Strife. You’ll understand when you meet him.”

Tifa pulled back. “I don’t want to.”

“Meet him or understand him?” Aerith’s brows rose slightly. Her voice was calm, asking without accusing or patronizing her.

Tifa didn’t like it when she did that. Sometimes Aerith took an objective stance when Tifa wanted her to side with her the most.

“Neither...” she muttered.

Aerith didn’t criticize her for her answer. She only lowered her eyes to the bar where she laced her fingers.

Tifa pressed her lips together. There was so much she wanted to say, and she didn’t know where to start. Inside her was a chaotic mess of emotions and memories that she had long since tried to suppress. Strife, Cloud, or whoever he was, shook her. His arrival was a trigger to chaos and pain.

Memories best left forgotten were clawing their way to the surface. Tifa didn’t want the nightmare to come back. She had a peaceful life here in Edge, with Marlene and the bar to keep her busy. She listened to the woes of patrons, cheered them up with a bit of conversation, and connected with them. Marlene was also a bundle of joy, handling Barret’s prolonged absences with ease. Together they spent their days with smiles on their faces and laughter in their hearts.

It was a rare treat for any of them. Edge was heavily populated by people who had their homes destroyed in Midgar. Whether because of AVALANCHE, Shinra, or Meteor, their lives had taken a turn for the worst, and only the outskirts of Midgar offered enough sympathy to take them in.

Tifa did her best to help those in need. Even if it was just a drink or an ear to lend, she offered people a place of comfort they could always come back to.

This was her home. This was her life. She wouldn’t let Strife destroy what she had so preciously protected.

“I don’t want our home to be in jeopardy. He’s going to be nothing but danger.” Tifa looked up. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Aerith’s brows knit slightly, but she nodded. Again she reached for Tifa and gave her hand a light squeeze. “I understand. I wish you could just try, but... I understand.” She smiled kindly. “Shall we have breakfast? Marlene should be up soon.”

Tifa nodded and pulled away. She offered a smile in return, hoping to dispel the turmoil in her heart.

* * *

Zack stretched, yawning as he got up. He had slept on the couch out of concern for Cloud. He could’ve crashed on his own bed, but he saw the way Cloud had frozen when he had taken him to the spare bedroom. He didn’t understand it, but he felt he should stay in the living room just in case Cloud needed him.

Turning his head, he stared at his clock. He’d slept in longer than he expected. The journey thus far was taxing, and even a SOLDIER needed his rest. As soon as he was certain Cloud wouldn’t express any concerns, Zack had passed out on the couch.

Raking a hand through his hair, he made his way to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water from the faucet. He leaned against the counter as he drank, recounting yesterday’s events. They had an idea of what was going on, but not how to conquer the problem. Jenova was tugging them around, especially Cloud.

Zack wanted to help Cloud as much as he could. He knew there were would be battles he couldn’t fight with Cloud, but he wanted to be his support. The fight was only going to get harder from here on out, and Cloud was going to need as much help as he could get.

_Cloud played a pivotal role in this war._

Making his way back to the couch, Zack dug out his phone. He glanced toward the spare bedroom before flipping the phone open and dialing Sephiroth’s number. Sephiroth wasn’t too keen on making friends with Cloud, but he still had an objective mind Zack could rely on.

“Morning!” he greeted as soon as Sephiroth picked up.

“ _The morning is almost over._ ”

“I know. I didn’t expect to sleep in this long. I bet you woke up bright and early like usual.” The comment didn’t need an answer, so Zack kept going. “Cloud’s still asleep. At least I think he is, he hasn’t come out yet. If I went through what he did, I’d still be passed out.”

“ _Any problems?_ ”

“You mean Jenova? Nah, I slept on the couch just in case, but nothing happened.”

“ _Keep an eye on him. Now that we’re in Midgar, more lives are at stake._ ”

Zack sighed. “I know. I don’t want to treat him like a criminal, though. He’s innocent.”

“ _The truth doesn’t matter. Strife’s image is still burned in everyone’s mind, and... Cloud’s innocence won’t stop their hate and fear. Don’t forget what happened when Strife was last seen here._ ”

“I haven’t.” He couldn’t possibly forget. Strife had left a lasting impression; the old President as well as much of the staff were murdered. Those who made it out alive were left with nightmares and stories to tell. “But what do I do, keep him locked up?”

He heard a soft sigh from Sephiroth’s end. “ _I will be speaking with Rufus later this afternoon on our next plan of action. Midgar and Edge is a lot of ground to cover, and between protecting the people and Cloud, we will be stretched thin._ ”

“Should Tseng be bringing in the other Turks?”

“ _Until we know how widespread the situation is, it would be better to leave them be. We know Jenova will come for Cloud, but we don’t know if she won’t try to attack the other cities as well._ ”

“Places like Kalm or Rocket Town wouldn’t be able to defend against a monster raid...” Zack’s brows furrowed. He stared hard into the floor. He knew people all over the world, and the idea of them being attacked by Jenova pricked his ire.

“ _Yes. If we can narrow down her net of control, we can focus more on what’s in front of us._ ”

“Meaning Cloud.”

Sephiroth was silent for a second. “ _He is included. We will discuss what we can do with him._ ”

“Thanks, Seph.”

He smiled. Sephiroth didn’t give him a **“** You’re welcome, **”** but Zack didn’t expect him to. The fact Sephiroth was going to put a word in was a good start. They couldn’t expect to be given much leeway, but if Cloud could move about a bit, Zack would feel better.

“ _Don’t let your guard down, Zack. He’s not stable._ ”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. Cloud’s safe with me.” Zack cut the call there, closing his phone. He turned his head toward the spare bedroom, a soft frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

In all honesty, Zack wasn’t sure Cloud would be safe with him; his fight was more internal than external. He wasn’t going to give up without trying, though. If he could tip the scale in Cloud’s favor even just a little bit, it was better than nothing at all.

* * *

Cloud jerked awake, abruptly pushed out of his state of rest without warning. Muscles locking up, he stared at the ceiling in confusion. The firmness of a mattress under his body was a foreign sensation. The room, too, was just as foreign.

Disoriented, Cloud slowly sat up and looked around. His body felt heavy, his movements sluggish. It took a fair minute before he remembered where he was and why he was here in the first place. Silently groaning, he rubbed at the corners of his eyes before taking another look at the borrowed room.

It felt like he’d hardly slept, as if he was running on less than four hours, but when he saw the sunlight peeking through the window blinds, he knew more than half of the day was already behind him. They had arrived in Midgar late in the night but well before dawn; he must’ve been asleep for more than sixteen hours.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Cloud sighed. He didn’t know what he would need to do from here on out. Rufus had opened up his services to Cloud with some restrictions. Sephiroth’s presence would likely restrict his mobility further.

_How irritating..._

Pushing up to his feet, Cloud glanced at his sword. He was used to strapping it on right away, its weight a comfort at his back, but he didn’t need to do that here. He was with Zack. Zack wouldn’t attack him or give him a reason to draw his sword in the man’s home.

Despite the security, he found it difficult to leave his sword where it was as he turned to leave the room. After a careful test of the handle -- he wasn’t expecting Zack to lock the door, but so far he’d been locked in two different rooms -- he opened the door. His body was tense, uncertain of what he would be greeted with. When he saw an empty living room, he thought he was alone, but he heard the quiet sound of clattering around the corner.

He followed it and found Zack digging around in the kitchen. Zack had his head stuck in the fridge, dumping cartons and plastics in a trash bin. Cloud noticed there were old food containers, likely past their expiration date. How long had it been since Zack was last here if some of the contents in his fridge were spoiled? 

Zack straightened up and nudged the trash can with his foot to move it out of the way. As he did, he saw Cloud and grinned. “Morning!”

“I don’t think it’s morning anymore.”

Zack nodded. “But it’s morning for you.”

“Yeah...” He looked down at the bin. “What are you doing?”

“Just clearing stuff out. I thought I’d throw something together to eat, but when I saw the fridge...” Zack grimaced. “I’m thinking we should buy food instead.”

Cloud moved closer to get a better look at the trash, echoing Zack’s expression. He was glad Zack wasn’t crazy enough to try and salvage whatever that was. “...Buy sounds good.”

“Right? I’ll toss this and check out the cafeteria.” Zack looked up. “I’d offer to take you with me, but...”

Cloud knew what he was going to say. “But other people shouldn’t know I’m here.”

Zack gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “I expected it.”

Studying him, Zack clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t look like you’re that interested in going out anyway. How about you use the shower while I’m out?”

The mention of showering made him conscious of the fact he hadn’t had the opportunity to clean up since he got here. Being unable to shower for a few days wasn’t alien to him, but he couldn’t deny a proper wash was both pleasant and therapeutic.

His clothes had blood and dirt on them from the Ancient Forest, too. They were in poor state from the battle he had with Sephiroth. His pants and shirt were cut, and the hole just below his heart was perpetual evidence of when the Masamune pierced him.

“Alright.”

“Great!” He looked down at Cloud’s chest when Cloud tugged at the hem of his shirt and made the gash in his shirt more noticeable. “I don’t think I’ve got anything your size, but you can borrow my clothes until we fix those. Sound good?”

Cloud’s pride stung a little at that comment. He knew he wasn’t a large man. When he still wielded the Buster Sword, it was an ongoing joke between his comrades how the sword dwarfed him. As a swordsman, his stature was almost laughable, particularly with his preference for large blades. Eventually his skills overshadowed his physical shortcomings, but a stray comment like Zack’s sometimes pricked him.

“...Sounds good.”

Zack grinned and pointed in the direction Cloud came from. “It’s just on the other side, by my room. Everything should still be good to use.”

Cloud nodded and backtracked to the bathroom. He caught his reflection in the mirror and saw a weary man. His shoulders drooped under the heaviness of fatigue; his expression was slightly vague, as if his face couldn’t be bothered to make the effort. Cloud tilted his head and saw a thin line of red on his neck, just above his collar.

Pulling aside the fabric, he leaned toward the mirror to inspect the damage. If Sephiroth’s sword had cut him deeper, he would have sliced open an artery -- or worse, taken his head right off. He was lucky.

Cloud unzipped his shirt and stared at the scar on his chest. A little higher and it would’ve pierced his heart. The old scars from the previous times he had been impaled by the Masamune overlaid themselves, each one just a hair shy of his heart. He flirted with death far too many times; he was apprehensive of the day he and death finally embraced.

_Didn’t he already do that?_

More accurately, he kissed death’s cheek and dumped it for another harrowing road. Gaia didn’t allow him a proper ending; instead, she cheated him by putting him on this parallel world.

Cloud shook his head and undid the buckles and buttons holding his clothes together. Without them, he could see where he barely missed Sephiroth’s attacks. His clothes had taken the brunt of the damage; if they couldn’t be repaired, he’d need to get a whole new set of clothes. He didn’t want to have to change his wardrobe; he was attached to what he wore now. They, like his sword, removed the old image of SOLDIER and the tragic boy who was forced to grow up too fast.

He turned his arm to look down at the red ribbon tied around his biceps. Carefully, he undid the knot and placed it atop the counter. He didn’t want it to get ruined; whether his clothes were salvageable or not, he wouldn’t let go of the ribbon.

After messing with the temperature, Cloud stepped into the shower and let the water cascade over him. He bowed his head and watched the dried blood and dirt get washed down the drain. The steady rhythm of the shower raining on his head lulled him. He drew in a deep breath and tilted his face toward the spray, his eyes drifting closed.

_If only his troubles could be washed down the drain, too..._

Lowering his head, Cloud pushed his hair from his face and searched the bottles lining the wall for shampoo. When he found it, he reached for it, only to stop halfway. The ring on his finger caught his attention. He’d fallen asleep after looking at it; without his gloves covering it, he couldn’t ignore its presence.

_Marriage._

The word popped up in his head again. He couldn’t get rid of the significance of a ring being on his _fourth_ finger. The index finger for “direction,” the thumb was for “good luck,” the middle finger was for “profanity,” the pinky was for “promise,” and the ring finger was for “marriage.”

Of all the fingers Gaia had to choose, Cloud wondered why she chose the fourth finger. Simply because it was designated as the “ring” finger? Cloud eased the ring off and carefully turned it over in his palm. It was just a plain band, no design or engraving on it.

_Wait._

Squinting, Cloud brought the ring closer. On the inside of the band was small script. If he wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve missed it.

“ **‘** Forever entwined **’** ...” He frowned. That read like a vow -- a _wedding_ vow. “Or a promise, like an engagement...”

Cloud’s frown deepened. If this was a wedding ring, or even an engagement ring, why did Gaia give it to him? He had even less use for a wedding ring than a regular one. He wasn’t married, he hadn’t been planning to get married, he didn’t think he’d _ever_ plan on getting married. His life was his own. Solitary.

A sudden knock on the door startled him. He clutched the ring.

“Hey, Cloud? I’m coming in. I found some clothes that might fit you.” It was Zack.

“Sure. Thanks.” He stood still as the door opened, waiting for Zack to drop off the clothes. 

“There you go! If it’s too baggy, I can go find something else later. I’m heading out to get us food. I’ll be right back!”

“Alright.” Cloud didn’t move until Zack left. He slowly opened his hand and looked at the ring again. He debated on what to do with it, if he should keep it or abandon it. It wasn’t his, he knew that. Gaia gave it to him for some reason, but he had no idea why.

Was he just supposed to keep it? Deliver it? Maybe it was for the unnamed person he was supposed to save. If so, he _should_ keep it. Idly he wondered who that person was, and what they were like.

Hesitant, Cloud slipped the ring back on. It fit him perfectly, unsettlingly so.

_Almost as if..._

Cutting off the thought before it sunk its claws in, Cloud reached for the shampoo bottle again. He didn’t need to think about trivial things like rings and who they belonged to. Once he was done cleaning up, he’d see what the plan was for fighting Jenova. That was far more important.


	13. Chapter 12

Carefully juggling both bag and drink caddy, Zack used his elbow to call the elevator. As he waited, he took quiet note of the people milling about the floor. They were equal parts staff and infantrymen. Though Shinra had lost a lot of respect with the people of Midgar, they still heavily relied on the company to aid in keeping their lives comfortable and trouble free.

A number of people from the slums refused to accept Shinra’s help despite the harsh living that would be pressed upon them without it -- after all, living on the lower plates proved Shinra was very peculiar about who it helped and how. Being in Edge wasn’t too different from the slums, except there they could actually see the sky, and access to supplies was a little easier without the rumors of the food being tainted.

The reactors that withstood the attack of Meteor and Weapon still churned out mako energy. While it was widely known that siphoning the lifestream was harming the planet, the people didn’t know what else to do. Zack, having come from the small town of Gongaga, knew how to live off the land without relying on mako. Not everyone was like him, however.

Many people, especially those who were born and raised in Midgar, didn’t know any other type of life. They didn’t know how to live without mako or Shinra, so even though Shinra was seen in a negative light, the people still relied on it.

Zack didn’t have an idea of how the people were supposed to move onward like this, if it was still okay to use the planet’s lifesource, or if they needed to completely abandon the idea of using mako. Being without mako would likely help retain the planet’s longevity, but the people would suffer greatly before they found stabilization.

When the elevator signaled its arrival, Zack entered and used his elbow again to press the floor to his quarters. As the elevator pulled him up to a higher level, he looked outside the glass panel to the city below.

It truly was fortunate that they had managed to save so many people from the destruction of Meteor. Him, Sephiroth, AVALANCHE, and those who supported their cause, fought with all their might to preserve the life of the planet and its people. Whether they were sinners or innocents, Zack and the others fought for their sakes. Their efforts weren’t in vain. Many people survived, and it warmed Zack’s heart to know these people had homes to return to, family and friends to hug, and a future.

“But what kind of future is this...?” he muttered to himself and shifted his gaze from one Sector to another.

The difference was as stark as black and white. One Sector was still lit with electricity, businesses still running, and people still wandering the streets. The other Sector was dark, buildings demolished and debris scattered across the streets. While some lights still worked, most of the Sector was dead. The mako reactor that was conjoined with that Sector was equally dead, providing the people nothing more than poisonous fumes.

Even after all this time, fixing the leaks in the reactors was progressing at the pace of dripping molasses. Not many people could go near the reactors without risking poisoning. Even with protective equipment, exposure to the fumes and concentrated substance gave potential to someone mutating.

It was a phenomenon that never happened before. Even when Hojo did his experiments during the mass production of SOLDIER, the candidates were carefully contained in enclosed environments. Exposure to the outer elements was kept at a minimum. There was no such containment now, and the scientists who were now employed in the Science Research Department weren’t as knowledgeable about mako’s adverse effects on the body. None of them expressed the same fanaticism Hojo had.

Zack was eternally glad. The world didn’t need another Hojo running around. Or Hollander, for that matter. Hollander was just as mad, particularly with his running contest with Hojo. Their deaths weren’t met with tears.

As the elevator doors opened, Zack made his way to his quarters. It took a bit more juggling but he managed to get his door unlocked and open without spilling his and Cloud’s meal.

Entering his home, Zack called, “Cloud, I’m back!”

Cloud wasn’t to be seen in the living room, but Zack knew he was there somewhere. Cloud didn’t once give the impression of bolting despite the situation he was in. He was compliant to whatever order was given to him, though Zack bet Cloud didn’t want to obey any of them. If he was in Cloud’s place, Zack wouldn’t want to either, but he was glad Cloud didn’t give them a reason to suspect him. He didn’t want to hurt Cloud.

There were plenty of reasons not to hurt Cloud. Zack didn’t know all of them, but he could make up a list if someone asked. It just wasn’t in his nature to attack someone who didn’t need to be attacked. Even if he was faced in a situation where his life was on the line, if there was a way to avoid fighting, he would take it.

If he could help the others see they didn’t need to be so scared of Cloud, he wanted to know what he needed to do.

“I got us some stir fry.” He raised his voice, hoping Cloud could hear him from wherever he was. “I should’ve asked you if there were any foods you didn’t like, but this has a bit of everything, so you can just pick and choose.”

He unpacked the food on the small dining table, divvying up the utensils and drinks, and shaking out the plastic bag for any sauce packets hidden at the bottom. When he heard the murmur of clothing rubbing against itself, he glanced over his shoulder and froze.

It was like stepping back in time.

He had dug out a uniform as close to Cloud’s frame as he could find, but it still proved half a size too big. Zack hadn’t thought much about what Cloud would look like once he put the uniform on. He looked just like Strife back in SOLDIER.

Zack recalled a similar instance when Strife was promoted to Second Class and his CO had messed up the order of his new uniform. It had turned out a little too big, hanging loose in odd places. Strife had been disgruntled at how it made his smaller figure more noticeable.

Zack had found it amusing, though Cloud looked more uncomfortable than disgruntled. Quickly slapping on a smile, Zack gave a nod of approval. “Hey, I did a pretty good job. I’ll ask around later and see if there’s someone who can patch up your clothes. Let’s eat!”

Cloud gave a small nod in return and joined him at the table. Zack grinned as the smell of freshly cooked food hit his nose when Cloud helped him open the to-go boxes. “Man, I miss food like this.”

“You don’t eat here often?”

Zack ripped open the plastic covering his utensils. “Ever since we stopped Meteor, the world settled down a lot, but there are plenty of places in need of repair and people that need support. It’s not much, but I often go out on patrols or get hired on as a bodyguard when people travel across the continent.”

“What about SOLDIER? Shinra is still intact.”

He shook his head. “There aren’t many SOLDIERs left. Besides me and Sephiroth, there aren’t any First Class around, just a handful of Thirds. Those who survived Meteor didn’t really have places to go or knew what to do, so they stuck around Midgar. We’re not an army anymore, but there are still uses for us old vets.”

Cloud wore a soft frown. “Only you and Sephiroth are First Class?”

“Yup.” The world didn’t need more than that. As grateful as Zack was for the strength he had gained to protect those he loved and cared for, SOLDIER was a species that was better off remaining endangered. “What about your world?”

“I’m the only one.”

“I guess it’s better this way...”

“Yeah,” Cloud murmured and tucked into his food.

Zack did the same, an easy silence falling between them as they ate. Halfway through, Zack slowed down and studied Cloud. His eyes were drawn to Cloud’s left hand, particularly the ring on his finger. He’d seen it before on the _Highwind_ , but hadn’t talked in depth if Cloud about it. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to.

If anyone had the right to talk about it, it would be Sephiroth. Zack didn’t know if the conversation would get very far, though. Not without the two of them getting along first. Who knew if the world would give them enough time to try. In fact, what did any of them know about how long this would drag out?

“Hey, about being here...”

Cloud lifted his head.

“I don’t know how long we’re staying here, but you should expect we’ll be sticking around for a while. At least until we get this whole thing figured out.”

“Am I going to be staying with you the entire time?”

Cloud’s question made him pause. Zack scraped the edge of the to-go box with the side of his spoon as he thought. “Probably. The only other person you’d be trusted with is Sephiroth. I’m not saying you aren’t trustworthy, but I think everyone else would feel better if it stayed this way.”

The blond made a sound of understanding. “Alright.”

“Sephiroth and Rufus are probably talking about what to do right now.”

“With me,” Cloud supplied.

“And Jenova.” Zack gave a sympathetic smile. “I’ll do what I can, too. I don’t want you stuck in here like an animal in a cage. You deserve to be treated like a person.”

Cloud held his gaze for a long stretch before nodding. “I’ll wait.”

Zack nodded back.

Cloud was being compliant again. Zack almost wished he would protest, just so he had that much more motive to fight for Cloud. He wasn’t upset Cloud didn’t protest, though. Either way, he would help Cloud.

* * *

The heavy footfalls of boots against laminate floor filled the silence as Sephiroth entered his home and locked the door behind him. He made his way to his room where he began to remove his battle gear. The day had been painfully long, and tomorrow promised to be the same.

Talking with Rufus was always a tiresome task. They had opposing points of views, but neither of them were brash enough to assume killing each other would solve their problems. They needed each other, much to Sephiroth’s chagrin.

He, like many others who had lived and breathed Shinra, had nowhere else to go. Shinra was his home, his bread and butter, his life. Regardless his discrepancies with the company, particularly Rufus, he couldn’t abandon it. Maybe if circumstances had been different, and the vows he made hadn’t been met with ash, he could’ve turned his back on the company and tried to start anew. However, fate hadn’t turned a fair hand his way.

Sighing quietly, Sephiroth hung his coat. The straps that crossed his chest were unhooked and hung low on either side of his hips. His boots were neatly tucked against the closet, out of the way, along with all other clothing he didn’t need to wear in bed.

Dressed down to just a pair of pants, he sat on the edge of the bed. In his head ran a list of what he knew so far. Cloud’s arrival promised a new chain of destruction. Junon was just the start. Jenova’s revival had not yet come to fruition, and if they didn’t play their cards right, she would return. With her would be another onslaught of violence and death.

She tried to attack the harbor city and had failed, but it was undoubtable she would try again. Whether or not she attacked Midgar the same way, or tried to use Cloud, they didn’t know. Regardless the method, they needed to be prepared for either possibility.

Defending the city from outside threats was far easier in comparison to dealing with Cloud and his internal fight with Jenova. Sephiroth could work with Rufus on securing Midgar and the outer limits of Edge, but he couldn’t help Cloud.

The irrational part of him didn’t _want_ to help Cloud, while the reasonable part said he needed to. His personal feelings had to sit on the sidelines for the sake of the planet. It was no less difficult now than it was three years ago, when he had to set aside his feelings for Strife in order to save the world. The act of putting to rest his emotions and moving on from Strife was painful, and he used Shinra and the restoration of the planet as a fair excuse to avoid acknowledging the emptiness in his heart.

Cloud’s sudden appearance brought that emptiness to light, and as much as Sephiroth wanted to ignore it, he was aware of the loneliness and longing inside him. It wasn’t just three years he was mourning over, but nearly half a decade, when he first lost Strife.

Briefly pinching the bridge of his nose, Sephiroth stopped that train of thought and tried to focus on the present. Thinking about Strife wouldn’t solve their problems. It wouldn’t help them get rid of Jenova, and whatever she had planned.

The sudden trill of his phone caught him off guard. Pushing up to his feet, he fished his phone out of his coat pocket and snapped it open. To his surprise, Vincent’s name was displayed. It was rare of Vincent to contact any of them; the man preferred a solitary life.

Sephiroth accepted the call. “Vincent.”

“ _There are three men who appeared by the Northern Crater._ ” Vincent didn’t beat around the bush.

“Are they a threat?”

“ _Not yet. I’ve been tracking them since yesterday. They’re heading south by foot; the only encounters they’ve faced so far are monsters._ ”

Simply running into monsters wasn’t a detail Vincent would give him without reason. Fighting monsters did the people a favor, yet Vincent’s tone implied the opposite. “What are they like?”

“ _Cruel. They care little about those they fight, and are excessively violent. To feel pity for monsters..._ ” Vincent’s voice trailed. “ _If they remain on foot, it could take them several weeks to reach the major towns. When they do, the people will be slaughtered._ ”

Sephiroth’s eyes were focused on the wall though he didn’t quite see it. These three men were another concerning element. If the men attacked the towns and villages on the Northern Continent, they would need to be taken down. Sephiroth would need to devise a plan to eliminate the men in addition to keeping Midgar and Edge safe. “Who are they?”

Vincent didn’t reply right away. When he did, it wasn’t what Sephiroth expected. “ _Copycats of Strife. They don’t look exactly like him, but they remind me of him._ ”

Sephiroth closed his eyes. Vincent didn’t speak or interrupt Sephiroth’s thoughts as Sephiroth tried to sort out his next words.

“...The day before yesterday, Strife appeared in the Ancient Forest. I fought him, but I didn’t kill him. We took him to Junon on account of Aerith believing Gaia wanted him alive, and that he’s not from this world. He’s from a different one, parallel to our own.”

“ _Do you trust it?_ ”

“I’ll believe he’s from a different world, but I don’t trust _him_.”

“ _Where are you now?_ ”

“We’re in Midgar. He’s staying with Zack until we get a better understanding of what’s going on. Jenova is in his head. He’s fighting her, but it looks to be a losing battle.”

Vincent gave a quiet, thoughtful sound. “ _You will kill him if he surrenders to Jenova._ ”

Sephiroth made his way back to his bed and sat. “Yes.”

He looked at his left hand. Cloud wasn’t Strife. He looked like Strife, but he _wasn’t_ him. Sephiroth didn’t have the emotional ties with Cloud as he had with Strife, and that would make the decision easier. Theoretically.

“ _Then you must prevent that from happening._ ”

Sephiroth frowned. “The fight is his. We can’t battle Jenova from within him.”

“ _Not all nightmares are conquered alone._ ”

The quiet response was met with silence. Vincent was host to true nightmares. His existence was the product of science and magic, an immortal vessel that knew no escape from the demons within. He, out of all of them, understood the struggle to remain in control and ignore the taunts and temptations whispered in his head.

Sephiroth had spoken to him about it before, but not in detail. Vincent wasn’t overly open about the conversations that played in his head. Out of respect, Sephiroth hadn’t pushed. At this moment, however, he needed his advice.

“How do we fight?”

“ _You don’t._ ” Before Sephiroth could ask for clarification, Vincent continued. “ _He will be the one to fight, and the longer he fights, the wearier he will become. He will need someone to support him._ ”

“Friendship is beyond us.”

“ _Don’t be his enemy._ ”

Sephiroth considered the older man’s words. Vincent wasn’t saying they had to be friends. Cloud needed mental support, not necessarily a friend. It was within Sephiroth’s ability to provide Cloud some support. The question was how he might do that, if there were certain actions he had to take, or words he had to say, to convince Cloud he could rely on him.

They hadn’t talked much since they met, exchanging little more than harsh words and distrusting looks. They would need to have a proper conversation and determine the appropriate definition of their relationship.

“...Alright.”

“ _Yuffie showed me how to text._ ”

The sudden change in topic derailed Sephiroth’s thoughts. “I remember.”

“ _I question how reliable the reception is here, but I will answer._ ”

It took a moment for Sephiroth understand what Vincent was trying to say. Vincent wasn’t overly talkative, which made holding conversations with him either very brief or very awkward. Sometimes it was both. However, Sephiroth knew he cared about his comrades, which made the silences and non sequitors bearable.

Sephiroth also knew Vincent cared especially for him. They were father and son, and Vincent always tried to take care of Sephiroth. He was clumsy about it, but Sephiroth valued his father’s efforts. He appreciated the simple and seemingly out of place comment about texting.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “I’ll keep you up to date. If anything happens on your end, let me know.”

Vincent didn’t respond; there was only the soft beep of the call being disconnected. Sephiroth hadn’t expected a proper goodbye. He closed his phone and placed it on the nightstand by his bed. When he glanced at his clock, he silently sighed at the late hour.

There was too much to do, and not enough hours in the day. He predicted he would be offered little chance to rest during this whole ordeal. Jenova, Cloud, and now these Strife copies...

Stretching out atop his bed, Sephiroth pushed away all the worrying thoughts and tried to sleep. What few hours he would be granted before the next dawn were precious. Closing his eyes, Sephiroth slowly sank into slumber.

* * *

Vincent stared at the mobile still resting in his palm. Sephiroth’s words echoed in his head. Strife had returned. Perhaps it was more accurate to say he was hailed from another planet. Sephiroth hadn’t gone into detail, but Vincent didn’t think it was necessary to ask. The how and why wasn’t important to him right now.

What he had to deal with was the men whom emerged from the Northern Crater. Their arrival could have been triggered by Strife’s. If Strife was fighting Jenova, it didn’t seem impossible for her to create monsters in the shape of men in order to fight back.

Whatever the outcome of Strife’s internal battle with Jenova, Vincent had no sway. There was no point in worrying over something he could do nothing about. However, he could be Sephiroth’s eyes and ears here on the Northern Continent.

Turning his gaze down the snowy path which the three men descended, Vincent’s lips pulled thin. He estimated a month’s travel before they encountered other people, but that wasn’t a set timeline. If the men procured any vehicles, or if someone was unfortunate enough to cross paths with them, the time it took for Strife’s copies to reach civilization could be shortened.

Vincent had to make sure that didn’t happen. He couldn’t sit on the sidelines and watch disaster strike. He wasn’t that kind of man anymore.


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness... Life has been hellish for me lately, so I have to apologize for leaving you all hanging in limbo for so long. I've finally gotten the opportunity to settle in and write! Here and a couple more chapters in, there will be references to the novella series. It's not required to read them, but I still think they're neat and connect the storylines pretty well. Anyway, thank you for your patience and let's get on with the chapter.

The elevator hummed quietly as it climbed the floors of the Shinra Building. As it rose, Red stared outside. He didn’t care much for setting foot into this building, but the one he wished to meet was here.

Five days had passed since they had arrived in Midgar, and while Sephiroth, Zack, and Cloud remained housed in Shinra, the others had scattered about Midgar’s territory. Red had taken to sharing a hotel room with Yuffie. The girl treated him like a pet when it suited her, much to his chagrin, but she wasn’t a bad person.

Yuffie was the most animated and naïve one in their group. Red didn’t always understand her, and at times he thought her to be rather foolish, but she was accepting of who and what he was. At times, he felt protective of her. She was like a cub that needed constant watching. It was a tiring task, but he couldn’t say it was all that bad. He just wished she didn’t ask a bunch of questions that didn’t matter.

When he spoke honestly and admitted he was going to Shinra Building, she had hit him with a barrage of why’s and what’s. Why was he going? What was he going to do? Why was he going to see Cloud? What was he trying to accomplish?

She thought he was crazy, and when he asked if she wanted to join him, she immediately refused. He expected as much, and didn’t take offense when she continued to call him “totally nuts” before leaving the room.

He supposed he was a little crazy, but there were times he didn’t think like a human. He was a species with the convenience to understand and speak the human language, but he wasn’t human. The law of the wild, of his kind, was far removed from that of human society.

Cloud was indeed different, that much was clear. How different was a separate question, along with whether or not Cloud could prove he was beneficial for the planet’s survival.

Grandfather had once told him to be a records keeper of the planet’s history. As his life extended well beyond a human’s, he had plenty of opportunity to observe and record the developments and collapses of human cultures.

In the three years he had been separated from his comrades, he had traveled the world to study the planet. There was much to see, and for a time he had immersed himself in the law of nature, where he found and cared for two bear cubs like his own. A chance encounter with Vincent reminded him of the people he left behind in Cosmo Canyon, and his task to take note of the changes in the planet since their battle against Jenova and Strife.

Along the way he ran into Reeve, and the man gave him Cait Sith to help him stay in touch with their comrades. Glancing up, Red took quiet note of the mechanical cat riding his back. His large gloved hands loosely grasped Red’s mane to remain atop, though there was no worry of the toy being dismounted.

As the elevator announced their destination and opened its doors, Red exited and followed the hallway that led towards the First Class SOLDIER residence.

“Are ye sure this is a good idea?” Cait Sith spoke.

“What do you mean?” Red tilted his head and peeked at the cat out of the corner of one eye.

“Goin’ ta see Cloud. I don’t see why ye need t’ talk ta him.”

“I agree with Zack on the fact we cannot gain an understanding if we do not reach out to each other.”

“What if he turns out t’ be dangerous? Well, I know he already is, but he could go crazy at any moment, aye?”

A thoughtful sound rumbled in the back of Red’s throat. “Yes, it’s highly possible. He currently struggles with an internal battle with Jenova. But are we unable to help? Is there nothing we can do except sit on our hands and wait for her to strike again?” He glanced back at the doll. “I wish to learn more about him. Perhaps if we speak, we may be able to find an effective way to counter Jenova. If not, it can’t be said we didn’t try.”

Cait Sith looked at him uncertainly. “I guess so...”

Red kept going, stopping only when they came before Zack’s room. Cait Sith reached up to ring the doorbell and they waited for someone to answer. It was Cloud who opened the door. The man looked down at them in surprise.

“Zack’s not here.”

Red’s ear twitched. “That’s fine. I was hoping to talk to you. May we come in?”

Cloud stepped to the side and Red took the invitation to enter. The various scents that filled the room hit his sensitive nose, from the distinctive odor of man, to the oil that sat on the table, still opened with a rag settled next to it. Spread across the table’s surface was a large sword -- Cloud’s, if he recalled correctly -- with its various pieces scattered about the furniture.

As Cait Sith hopped off his back and climbed atop the couch, Red circled around it to briefly study the different parts of the sword before turning his eyes to Cloud who had followed him into the living room.

“Are you preparing for battle?” Red asked.

“We don’t know when Jenova will strike. I won’t fight with a dull sword.”

“Wouldn’t you say your fight is not out there but in here?” He flicked an ear and tilted his head. “Jenova resides in your mind.”

Cloud didn’t answer right away. “Fighting her off in my head isn’t the only battle we have to worry about. What happened at Junon... that could happen here.”

_And it would be Cloud’s fault._

Red mentally finished off the sentence, knowing there would be many others who would think it. Every finger would be pointed in Cloud’s direction. Unfortunately for Cloud, he would have no one to defend him, at least not at this point in time. Red supposed Zack would step up to protect Cloud, but he couldn’t counter every attack that would be thrown Cloud’s way. Even Aerith was being met with doubt, and her opinion was backed by the voice of Gaia.

“That may be, however I believe your focus should be internal. If you cannot fight Jenova, then the war is already lost.”

Cloud frowned. “I won’t let her win.”

“We cannot rely on empty promises.” When Cloud’s expression changed into one of frustration and ire, Red dipped his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to criticize you, but there is still too little we know about you. Has anyone else come to visit?”

“No. It’s only been me and Zack.”

“I see.” Red found this news both disappointing and expected. The others wouldn’t approach Cloud unless it was deemed absolutely necessary. Aerith was an exception, but Red knew she was with Tifa and Marlene. Sephiroth, likewise, was probably busy with Rufus and the Turks.

Humans were such emotional creatures. Red found their behaviors to be curious, particularly when it came to past grievances. He learned that animals were more forgiving than humans. The past could not be changed. Death left scars, but survival was dependent on cooperation and adaptation, and sometimes that meant sharing meals with an old enemy.

As Red had been caring for those two cubs, he learned that the threat of starvation and death overcame the fear the cubs had of him. It was through basic survival instinct they clung to him despite the fact he had taken away their mother. He gave them the knowledge and skills to make it on their own, and they benefitted from it. He and the cubs spent almost two years together in peace until they finally parted ways.

Humans were far more complicated in comparison. They were too attached to that which was lost, which prevented them from moving forward without bearing grudges. They had a habit of pointing fingers and casting blame even on the innocent.

Red’s tail swayed low like a pendulum. “Will you indulge in a conversation with me?”

Cloud wore a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“I’d like to get to know you more. Grandfather once told me that it is important to see the world objectively, and that would include your arrival here.”

Red’s species would outlive humans by hundreds of years. To get tangled in the ways of man would only confuse him, so he tried to keep his emotions and thoughts in check. He was a records keeper, and while the tragedies that befell his friends and the innocent people across the planet struck an emotional blow, he had to remove himself from the equation in order to speak civilly with Cloud.

Cloud stared at him before finally making his way around to the front of the couch and sitting down. Cait Sith hopped from his perch and found himself a new seat on the couch’s arm so he could face both Red and Cloud.  The man glanced between them before giving a small nod. “Alright. What did you want to know?”

“What is your world like? How has it managed since your fight with Jenova?”

“It’s peaceful. At first, many people had a hard time adjusting. When Meteor came, the lifestream helped defend the planet, but most Midgar was destroyed, and everyone that survived had to evacuate.”

“Much like here, I imagine.”

Cloud nodded, but a sorrowful look encompassed his features.

Red tilted his head curiously. “What makes you wear that expression?”

“I... I’m here.” Cloud grimaced. Red waited for him to continue. “I promised I would return home, but here I am. I have friends and family waiting for me.”

These same friends and family existed in _this_ world, but for Cloud, they didn’t have that same bond. Red pitied the man. He tried to imagine how it would feel to lose those he loved and held dear, but couldn’t settle on an emotion.

He knew time would eventually separate him from his comrades, but that didn’t compare to the situation Cloud currently faced. “Is that the true reason you fight? In hopes of returning to them?”

Cloud gave a small nod. “That’s part of it. As much as this world seems like mine, it isn’t. I’m not welcomed here.”

“What if you couldn’t return?” The question had crossed Red’s mind before, but he had never voiced it. It wasn’t a detail that superseded the abnormality of Cloud’s arrival, along with Jenova’s threat on their peaceful lives.

“...I don’t know,” Cloud murmured.

Red dipped his head in a nod. “I suppose it doesn’t matter at this moment. Tell me, could you say part of your reason for fighting is for the people here, too? I understand Gaia has given you a mission to help this world, but that doesn’t mean you have to love the people who live in it.”

When Cloud looked at him quizzically, Red met his gaze. He wondered if it was possible to fight for those who hated you, not simply because it was a mission, but because you cared for them despite the hate. It was difficult for Red to decide if he, himself, was capable of doing so.

_To care for someone who hates you..._

The sound of a lock tumbling free drew Red’s attention toward the front door. Cloud looked as well, though not without his eyes lingering on Red a moment.

Zack’s familiar gait caught Red’s ear before he actually saw the man. Zack had an eager smile on his face; it hardly faltered when he saw the company. “Hey! How’s it going, Red?”

Red dipped his head in greeting. “I was just talking with Cloud. I’m surprised you left him by himself.”

Zack waved his hand dismissively. “Cloud’s not gonna do anything.”

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation or uncertainty in Zack’s voice. Red could say the man was slightly peeved at the comment. These past five days must have brought forth a strong friendship between the two. Red wasn’t surprised, Zack could become friends with just about everyone.

“Yes, you’re right.” This time, Red bowed his head in apology. “You seem happy. Did something happen?”

Zack grinned and held up what looked to be an old SOLDIER helmet. “Yup, I got permission to use one of the training rooms.” He turned to Cloud and held out both the helmet and a set of gloves. “We can stretch our legs. I figured we’re overdue for a bit of exercise. I even got you something to help hide who you are. What do you say?”

Cloud looked at him in surprise, taking the gear after a flicker of uncertainty. “Sure.”

“Great! You gotta show me how you fight with your sword.”

Red’s eyes slanted to the scattered blades, reminded of their presence. The last time Cloud used them was when he arrived. It would be interesting to see them in battle again. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

Zack cocked his head in consideration, then nodded. “Sure, why not? The more, the merrier.”

Cloud nodded in turn and started to put his sword together. Red watched as each piece was fitted together, fascinated by the process. Cloud’s movements were sure and precise, speaking of years of practice. This man lived by the sword. His was a warrior’s path. Red wished to learn more about Cloud and his journeys.

Pushing up to all fours, Red waited for both men to finish gathering their belongings. Cloud studied the helmet before putting it on; it tucked away his distinctive blond hair while the visor covered the upper half of his face. If not for the large sword, Cloud could have blended in perfectly with what few SOLDIER were left in Midgar. Like this, he could move easily around the building and city without causing a major uproar.

Zack stared at Cloud for a long moment before throwing a thumbs-up and leading the way out. Cloud followed him, and Red took up the rear. Cait Sith hopped onto Red’s back once more as they left Zack’s home.

“I got Level 52 reserved, so we can do whatever we want.” Zack glanced over his shoulder at Cloud. “Have you ever been to the training simulators?”

“No. I didn’t leave the barracks often, and when I did, it wasn’t to go up the floors to the advanced training rooms. We weren’t allowed.”

Zack grinned. “You’re gonna like it. You can program the rooms to any scenario you want, and carry out different missions. I figured we could randomize it and work out some of those kinks.”

Cloud nodded. “Sounds good.”

Zack’s grin widened. He took them to the elevators so they could ride down a few floors to the simulators. It was a quiet trip, during which Red made use of his position in the back to observe the body language between the two men. He noticed Cloud’s change in posture once Zack was in the vicinity: the tension that drew in Cloud’s shoulders faded, and the pinched, wary look he wore softened once Zack managed to grasp Cloud’s attention.

Zack had an easy time redirecting Cloud’s focus, distracting him to the point Red almost believed his presence was forgotten. Their reflection bouncing off the metal doors was perhaps the only factor that prevented Red from being cast from the man’s mind.

When the doors parted at the arrival of their destination, Red followed the men along the hall to their designated training room. Zack let them go in first while he grabbed a mobile to customize their settings. Red waited patiently as the blank metal walls that encompassed the training room suddenly changed to a marsh. It resembled that of the home of the Zolom. The large snake was a frightening creature, one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Red only saw it once, and he wished to never see another.

Zack came up from behind, his boots making wet sounds as he stepped over the muddy grounds of the marsh. Even though this was a virtual world, Shinra’s technology made it as believable as possible. Every sense could be tricked into thinking they were standing in a real marsh surrounded by all manners of monsters.

Zack grinned and rolled his shoulders back. “Think we’ll run into the Zolom?”

Cloud looked around them. “This is an exact replica of the marshes?”

“Yup.”

Cloud glanced at Zack. “Then we will.”

“Fifty Gil says I get it first!” Zack hit his fist into the palm of his other hand, an eager look in his eyes. When Cloud shook his head, Zack nudged him with his elbow. “It’ll be fun!”

“I thought we were just exercising?” Cloud’s brows arched up.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.”

A chuckle escaped Cloud’s lips. “Okay.”

Red’s ear twitched at the sound, surprised at the humor in the man’s voice. He found it both curious and intriguing a simple comment about defeating monsters could incite that reaction from Cloud. Red sometimes didn’t understand human thinking; he didn’t know what was amusing about facing the Zolom.

Still, Cloud showed an expression devoid of pain or caution. He wore an honest look of enjoyment being with Zack. It was marveling.


End file.
